Key to Merwe
by BlueBastard
Summary: Wikus van de Merwe had believed the Prawn didn't understand the concept of property or ownership. As he looked with trepidation into the Prawn's eyes, he realized he was wrong. M/M slash, xeno Christopher/Wikus
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: don't own nor make a profit from this.

-o-o-o-

Wikus van de Merwe had believed the Prawn didn't understand the concept of property or ownership.

He was wrong.

Things. They weren't interested in ownership of things. Or objects. Or land. That was key.

As he looked with unblinking trepidation into the Prawn's eyes, he realized it was something he had discovered too late.

-o- WEEKS BEFORE -o-

The familiar rumble of scattered gun shots in District 9 wasn't even disturbed by the refugee fleeing inside the perimeter's fence. Human sentries looked bored at their post, never noticing the most wanted man escaping within the slums of Johannesburg.

But the Prawns did.

One speckled with gold flicked his antennas up, eyes snapping towards the strange human running past. Travis clicked and chirped to get the attention of a rust-colored drone, digging into the trash a few yards away. Carter shared a questioning trill at the being sprinting past, though it stumbled when it cast terrified glances at the both of them. Then just as quickly, it had disappeared into the shadows between the shacks.

They both rose in unison. Their search through the mounds of garbage could wait.

-o-o-o-

Fook. Fook.

Wikus clutched his trash bag to him, the remains of scavenged food and useful items clinking quietly within. But to the hybrid's ears, it was as if it rang as loud as a car alarm in the settling silence of the night.

He had slipped past the human guards easily enough. But he prayed to whatever god was out there that those two Prawns wouldn't take an interest in him.

He stumbled in the first shack he could, ripping the caution tape off the front doors before shutting the thin piece of tin behind him. As he stepped backwards in the darkness, he should've known better. Prawns were fast. Faster than him with his half-prawn half-human reflexes. And they had noses like blood hounds. Which didn't even make sense, because he didn't see any fookin' noses on their faces.

Two Prawns kicked open the door so recently shut, standing momentarily in the moonlit entrance, before striding inside. First a golden one, then a crimson following step behind him.

Wikus backed away, human hand raised in surrender, "I-I'm sorry. I didn't do anything. Is-is this your shack? I'm sorry, I'll find another place."

They easily blocked his attempts to step past them, prowling forward with an eagerness neither could explain. Twenty years. Twenty years they had spent cooped up in this hellish District 9, as the humans called it. There were so few forms of entertainment. So when something, or rather someone, stumbled in, they took it upon themselves to find out why.

It's what Christopher wanted, after all.

Just as they were about to give their usual line of questioning, the two tall Prawns exchanged surprised glances.

"What are you?" Travis clacked, golden form backing Wikus into one of the shack's tin walls.

The human dressed like some in the district, in rags and tattered clothing, a healthy layer of dirt and grime spotting the surface. He trembled as the two converged on him, hand held out as he asked, "W-what?"

This time the red one, Carter, piped up, "You look human. You speak human. You move human. Yet... you seem different."

Wikus looked dumbly at them, voice failing him for a moment. Here he was, on the run from his own government, his own people, his own father-in-law for christ's sake, and these two Prawns were the ones to catch him?

He watched warily as they stopped a foot or two from him, fear trickling down his spine. He had seen Prawns tear a human limb from limb as easily as a newborn could wave its chubby hand. He was glad they had stopped, but couldn't help his nervousness rise at their proximity. Prawns never had a sense of personal space.

"P-please, no questions. I just want to be left alone." Wikus tried once more to go around, but froze at the sudden hiss from the one named Travis.

A three fingered hand gripped his Prawn arm, raising it to the moonlight.

"Do you see?" Travis clicked and chirped in disbelief.

"Part human... part Poleepkwa." Carter trilled, black eyes shifting from Wikus's prawn arm to Wikus's face.

"P-please." The former MNU agent tried again, tugging his arm against the hard grip, "I will just be on my way-"

"No." Travis snapped, walking towards the door, an unwilling human in tow, "You must come."

"No please! I-I didn't do anything!" Wikus's self-preservation instincts starting to kick in.

But he forgot about Carter behind him. The red settled a warning hand on his shoulder, clacking, "You either walk, or we drag you to see Christopher."

The name sent a spark of familiarity to run through Van de Merwe, but he was too busy sagging in defeat.

"Lead the way..." He murmured half-heartedly, if only to get both pairs of eyes from looking at him so intently.

-o-o-o-

An emerald green Poleepkwa, dressed in a red vest and yellow pants, stood in deep concentration. He was running the figures through several computer screens. He clacked in annoyance. Such primitive technology. It made the whole process of picking up necessary parts and fuel from the mothership longer than it could be.

As if that annoyance wasn't enough, a sharp rap at the door presented another problem.

"Enter." His deep voice as directed behind him, not even bothering to turn around as the newcomers filed in.

His antennae flickered as he detected a set of human steps along with the pair of his trusted lieutenants. He was swiftly pivoting in place even as Travis's troubled voice called out, "Uh, Christopher...?"

Blue human eyes widened as Christopher's own red orbs did the same. The brown hair, that face. That fragile, slender body. The naive innocence that clung to the man's mere being.

"You..." Christopher couldn't hold back the snarl from his tentacles.

This human had blackmailed him to sign the eviction notice the other day, in exchange for his son. Of course the human had gotten sick before they could follow through, but still...

Wikus recognized him, among the million other Prawns, but didn't quite know how. Perhaps because he was the last Prawn he had seen before this entire mess had gone down. Or perhaps it was that intense, fierce intelligence shining in those crimson iris's.

The human shifted nervously on his feet, glancing at his original captors, "See guys, we met already. Christopher obviously doesn't want to talk to me. So I will just be on my way-"

"Travis, bring him farther inside. Close the door, Carter." Christopher ordered, though his red eyes never left Wikus.

The gaze traveled through his nerves to the tips of his Prawn hand, making it twitch. Wikus barely stopped from cursing as those observant red orbs flicked down to the limb, briefly widening before looking back up at him.

Sharp bastard. Wikus had been right earlier.

All the Prawns in the colony were worker drones, as a cultural expert had stated on camera. Driven with very limited mental capacities and basic survival needs. The trio in this very room proved that theory false. Though Christopher more so than the other two.

"Have a seat." Christopher gestured to a chair, though his tone was too firm to be a simple offer.

The command in it made Wikus's arm twitch, ready to obey. This raised the green Poleepkwa's ridged brow, as Wikus struggled against the urge, declining, "I'd rather... not. Thank you."

Travis and Carter flanked him, a strong arm -Wikus was unsure who's- pushed him into the chair.

"But we insist." Carter clicked sternly.

Wikus felt a sense of dread as he was shoved down, feeling any slim chance he might have had in escaping shrink to nothing. And the Prawns knew it. Had known.

Christopher leaned uncomfortably close, his angular exoskeleton glistening in the dim lighting. His eyes flashed as his deep voice rumbled, "Now... where is the cylinder?"

The sound sent a shiver through Wikus's spine, try as he might to still the reaction. But those eyes drank it up, missing nothing. As usual.

The former agent swallowed thickly at the green Prawn's smirk, never feeling more intimidated by their size difference than he did in that chair, at that precise moment.

Wait, why should Wikus answer that? The sentiment leaked through his blue iris's, the sudden streak of defiance a tangible taste through the air.

It surprised the green Poleepkwa. His previous assumption being that this human could be easily cowed. Easily ordered.

It sent a warm thrill of... something... down the serious Poleepkwa's hardened spine.

Then he gathered himself.

Christopher's eyes narrowed, a growl slipping through as he leaned lower. Closer.

His very form seemed to demand respect. Obedience. And he wasn't in a very patient mood.

Wikus felt his hairs raise at the proximity, his heart pounding.

Then again, maybe telling the truth was a good idea.

-o-o-o-

Christopher snarled, pounding his fist against the metal hull. He had retreated into the hidden shuttle below to think, not minding that the human was witness to its entrance.

Wikus was not going anywhere.

He had lost the liquid. The MNU probably still had it.

The human words rang bitterly in his ears. Twenty long years. Of collecting. Of meticulously draining the fuel from their scattered technological components, and the human managed to ruin it all!

He couldn't allow the human half-breed to leave. Then why not just kill it? But the thought did not settle well within him.

After more harsh clicks and trills, Christopher's shaking form managed to calm enough to think rationally.

There was nothing to do about it now. The best thing for his people would be to continue the long journey to starting their ship. They would begin the process once more.

-o-o-o-

Wikus was surprised when they actually let him go. He had expected some sort of punishment for his deeds. Fook, even for just being human.

But he should've known. That's where humanity had them beat. Humans were greedy. Spiteful. Driven easily by anger and quick for instant gratification.

For all their power and technology that made mankind look childish in nature, the Prawn possessed an infinite tolerance and patience that should put them all to shame.

Feeling suddenly ashamed and alone, Wikus made his way back to the desolate shack he had claimed as his own.

-o-o-o-

It had been four days and the transformation was almost complete. Wikus despaired in the mirror as he saw the last vestiges of his humanity slipping away. He was scared.

He needed help. Needed comfort.

But there was no one he could turn to.

A blinding pain struck, twisting his insides like so much putty, and he fell to the floor, unconscious.

-o-o-o-

Wikus awoke to darkness and so many smells he almost gagged, tentacles frenzied in worry. Every fiber of his being ached, and every noise and vibration in the air was deafening.

He keened out, crying for help. But he didn't know for what? Help from himself? Help getting out of his new body?

Because as he looked down, touching the soft leathers and the hard exoskeleton of his new form, he realized the transformation was complete.

He was a full Prawn.

Sudden movement outside his shack, then his door burst open. Solid green armor stood stark against his favored red shirt, eyes falling easily on the new Prawn on the floor.

Wikus eyes widened. Had... the Prawn always looked so... powerful?

So in control?

His broad shoulders dwarfed the door frame, having to angle himself slightly just to fit through. Those thick legs were tense, as if readying for fight or flight.

Realizing that he was actually checking the other out, Wikus came back to himself and snapped, "What the fook are you doing here?"

Christopher himself needed a moment to collect himself.

He had barged in, ready for anything. But he had not been prepared for this.

He had his men watching Wikus from afar since he had arrived. Making sure he didn't get himself in too much trouble with the larger, unpredictable drones, or even the Nigerians. Making sure he didn't attempt to leave. They had sent him reports over the days, but they had never...

They had never disclosed just how... *beautiful* Wikus was developing as a Poleepkwa. His exoskeleton, finally shed of the fatty human flesh, bore a healthy ebony gleam. Traces of blue edged his form, as if certain points and angles of him had been dipped in blue paint. His shoulders were broad, but not as wide as a normal Poleepkwa's. He was even shorter than the average drone, the same 6 and 1/2 foot height as he was as a human. But that did not detract from his beauty.

Rather it enhanced it, Christopher's blood calling out to dominate the new Prawn's slender form.

The Prawn's mismatched eyes, one gold the other blue seemed to fit perfectly in his face. It was a rarity to have such eyes. As an effect, it brought to the forefront the former human's exotic qualities.

As Wikus chirped nervously, sprawled vulnerable on the ground, Christopher couldn't stop the mental images of shoving him down and taking him right there. The hybrid didn't know his place. Christopher could teach him-

Then the green Prawn realized that Wikus was speaking to him.

"Well? What the fook are you doing here?" Wikus demanded, scrambling to his feet at the look in those red eyes.

Unfortunately, he didn't expect his legs to give out on him. He was having trouble as it was just speaking in their language with his tentacles.

Christopher rushed forward to catch him, though his own green form seemed tense, as he murmured deeply, "You called for help... I was nearby. I answered."

With the strong arms around him, Wikus looked up and flushed. Though he wasn't sure if it was from how pressed against Christopher's broad chest made him shiver, or if it was from the embarrassment of the whole predicament. Probably both.

"I don't need you help!" Wikus growled weakly, trying to push himself from Christopher's grasp.

But the green Poleepkwa would have none of that.

"Calm yourself, Wikus." The emerald Poleepkwa attempted to click soothingly, sweeping the more slender black Prawn into his arms and off his unreliable feet. It amazed him just how easily he fit in his hold. How lighter he was than normal. Heavier than his old human soft shell, of course, but lighter than the average Poleepkwa.

Wikus's looked adorable just then, mandibles flailing speechlessly, antennas twitching nervously. But then that unflappable ire came rushing back to this beautifully mismatched eyes and Wikus was struggling in his arms like a Prawnling, "Put me down, THIS instance Christopher!"

Chuckling, Christopher kicked the door open with one foot, carrying the protesting hybrid out into the predawn light, his cries going unheeded.

Wikis felt his faceplates heat up, "Don't fookin' laugh at me, this is not fookin' funny Christopher!"

But he felt the vibrations of another chuckle rumble through the chest he was pressed against, a mirth to those red eyes he hadn't seen since he had met the Prawn a week ago. His self-sense of indignation at the unnecessary 'assistance' however, took away any compassion to just let the Prawn have his merry way.

They were going at an easy lope through the shacks, curious eyes snapping up at the sight of a gorgeous ebony Poleepkwa in their leader's arms. The fact that he struggled made more than a few go green with envy. How they wished to have such a succulent, slender thing in their own grasp.

Wikus pushed against the well-shaped chest, noticing for the first time the twin trail of well-defined abs as he squirmed against them. He growled, trying to take his mind away from just how easily this green Prawn could handle him. Away from those unbelievably thick forearms, circled enticingly with those armbands even as spikes adorned their outer side. Away from those firm tentacles that steadily held him pressed against the heated chest. He could feel the strength ripple through Christopher's limbs at every step he took, a prisoner within the cage of the Prawn's arms.

Shaking his head, Wikus snarled. Wasn't he supposed to be stronger now that he had transformed? Or had he drawn the fookin' short stick and become an ugly AND weak Prawn?

"Christopher! Are you even listening to me? Put. Me. Down!" Wikus demanded, not liking the way he suddenly felt his insides turn to mush when those eyes focused on him.

There was a hunger to them, though the stronger covered it with amusement, "I hear the complaints of a Prawnling, yes."

Wikus narrowed his gaze, then crossed his arms, looking away. If the Prawn was simply going to make fun of him...

At another rumbling chuckle, Wikus sunk further into those unwanted arms, denying it felt the least bit comfortable at all. 


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Sweet, a lot more feedback than I expected on this story. Haha, and yea, Christopher totally pulled a caveman move.

If you're into YouTube vids, check out "Wikus/Christopher Music Video" by Darkangel66a, or the video "District 9 - Coming Undone" by Acacia9543.

P.S. You reviewers rock.

-o-o-o-

"Where have you taken me? Where am I?" Wikus demanded.

That he would even dare take that tone with him amused Christopher greatly. Though he simply clicked, "Do you ever stop talking, human? Or is there an endless flow of questions falling from that dense skull of yours?"

Wikus chirped indignantly, relieved when Christopher finally set him on the ground. He wobbled slightly, but managed to stand on his own.

A shiver ran through his form at the loss of contact with the green body, as if he craved the Poleepkwan's touch. But he shoved that thought down. Impossible. He had only met Christopher a few times, and none were too pleasant.

He still remembered the conviction with which Christopher had spoken to him that first day, intelligence sparking furiously from his crimson eyes. The love the Prawn had for his people, and for his son, was quite clear. And anyone who would dare cross that line would have hell to pay.

-o- FLASHBACK -o-

Christopher went forward, resigned. But when he dropped to his knees in a huff, he looked as if this was an everyday occurrence. As if automatic rifles weren't pointed at his gracefully built form. As if they weren't threatening the very livelihood of his son.

Wikus stepped around him to persuade him, not acknowledging the power in that armored form. Especially with one of his own arms in a temporary cast.

Christopher was kneeling. Wikus had guards. But it was the human who felt lacking.

As he knelt in front of the Prawn, trying to appear less hostile, he saw a brief flash of surprise flicker through Christopher's eyes. Those green antennas flickered wildly for a moment as if he scented a slight change in the air. His red gaze dropped to Wikus's bandaged arm.

Then he leaned forward, ever-so-slightly, as he clicked just low enough for Wikus's ears alone, "Your own leadership is tainted. You will see its true form among the people. Soon."

Wikus felt an unexplainable shiver run down his spine, his freshly bandaged arm pulsing. A shot of fiery pain coursed through his body and he stumbled away to purge chunks and stomach acid from his body. They hadn't even checked the green Prawn's shack.

Little did he know they never would.

-o- PRESENT -o-

Even as a full human, he had felt the underlying tendrils of Christopher's power and something... else...

Wikus glanced around nervously when he realized they weren't alone. It had taken a good amount of time for Christopher to carry him here, and the sun's rays were barely peaking over the mountain range in the distance.

A large bonfire was centered in the middle of the gathering, small groups of Prawns milling around. Christopher recognized the electric yellow of Travis and the rust red of Carter's shell among the throng. They, along with everyone else, peaked with curiosity at his arrival. Even more so with Christopher going out of his way to carry him there.

Wikus never moved from his spot at Christopher's side as they came at him, feelers twitching in curiosity. Tasting his very scent. The scent of this strange, little Prawn. Different, it said. But sweet. Very unique.

He never moved more out of realization that he couldn't control his new body too well, than the fact that he didn't want to get away. Because he did.

Very badly.

The last time he had seen a large group of Prawns rushing towards someone, had been when they dismembered Colonel Koopus limb from bloody limb. To say he was scarred from the incident was a complete understatement.

Wikus keened in slight fright, terror seizing his vocal chords from articulating much else. His body crouched slightly, in an attempt to appear smaller. Less visible or interesting. A good bloody help that was as they still came at him. Before any of the many tentacles could come in contact, the hybrid felt the larger form of Christopher surrounding him, torso curled as strong arms caged his smaller form.

The green Poleepkwa was not quite touching him, but he felt the heat from the armored form all the same. He felt tiny once more. But protected.

Christopher didn't say anything, but he emitted a loud growl. His chest was barely brushing the hunched form of the little black Prawn huddling in front of him. His gaze shifted down to him, mandibles stilling in consternation. Wikus was shivering. Unconsciously keening out in a terrified plea. It called out to Christopher's blood. And he would do everything he could to protect this naively innocent little Prawn. Ruby eyes glittering dangerously back towards the hesitating horde, Christopher's tentacles fisted tightly before flaring, along with his mandibles as he roared angrily.

He still didn't say anything.

He didn't have to.

The very AIR around him thrummed, warning dangerously for everyone else to back the fuck off.

Or else.

The surge of Prawn stopped, keeping their distance. They scented his leader pheromones pumping in the air. Consisting mainly of workers, more than half dispersed to continue previous activities, or to find new and interesting ones. What good could they do, fighting against a Prawn of Christopher's caliber? Of the rabble, Travis and Carter remained, watching. Though from a few steps away.

Relief filled Wikus's ebony-shelled form. But he shuddered as he felt the hot breath of a silent Christopher breathing down his neck. Christopher's body was still wrapped around his, not really making contact. Albeit barely.

He tried to straighten, but found his armored back hitting to the top of Christopher's chest, still curled protectively. Feelers caressed the juncture of his neck, almost soothingly. And Wikus found his body leaning into it.

Wanting it.

Wanting to be protected.

But Wikus freaked, rebelling against his traitorous body.

Stumbling awkwardly forward, breaking through the surprised barrier of Christopher's arms, Wikus managed to turn around without falling as he lifted a shaky tentacle. His fear and discomfort at his body's response warped to anger, as he said with the classic speak-without-thinking snarl, "I don't your bloody fookin' help, Christopher."

Christopher's surprise immediately narrowed in irritation. His wide shoulders set stiffly, straightening as he quietly deadpanned, "Then stop asking for it."

"I don't ask-" Wikus started to rant.

But then in one large stride Christopher was there, strong hand curling around Wikus's jaw, tentacles forcing the hybrid to keep eye contact as the bigger of the two snarled, "What do you think crying out like that does to me? Words aren't the only way to communicate with us, human."

Wikus was at a loss for words. Then he realized...

"My... sounds... bother you?" Wikus asked, tentatively.

Those red eyes flickered with an indescribable emotion, before narrowing.

"Yes." Christopher said shortly, releasing his grip on the hybrid as he stepped back.

"He is more sensitive than the rest, in that aspect." Travis offered, reminding Wikus of the additional presence. Something he had forgotten when Christopher's eyes had all but consumed him.

The green Poleepkwa's scent was all around him, Wikus realized, drowning out all else.

Carter stepped up to the black Prawn's other side, "Christopher... he protects us, ALL of us. He is our-"

Christopher clicked harshly, gaze burning both his lieutenants.

"You two talk too much." Christopher clicked in warning.

Suddenly frowning, Wikus snapped, "Fook Christopher, don't be stupid! How much of a fookin' moron you think I am? I realized you were some sort of leader figurehead a long time ago."

Christopher whipped his stinging gaze to the smallest of them, the other two exchanging worried glances. The last to speak to the green Prawn like that was buried six feet under.

Wikus realized the moment he let it slip through, that his words would get him in serious trouble one of these days.

A stretched silence breathed between the four of them. Then suddenly Christopher's mandibles quirked in a grin. This hybrid was more gutsy than any other Prawn that still lived.

Another Poleepkwa, a shoddy orange approached, trilling urgently.

Reluctant to leave the inexperienced Prawn, Christopher nodded to the newcomer, taking a step before hesitating. He shot a look at Travis and Carter, flicking his head in Wikus's direction, before heading off.

He had matters to attend to.

The yellow and red Prawn clicked in understanding, while Wikus watched Christopher with narrowed eyes.

"I don't need fookin' babysitters, Christopher." He clicked in annoyance, disturbed to find a hint of whining in his tone.

Christopher paused, barely looking over his shoulder as he chuckled, "You have yet to prove that to me, human."

Wikus bristled in response, but couldn't formulate a witty retort as the green Poleepkwa chortled once more before walking away.

-z-z-z-

A/N: Shorter than the first, I know. But that's cuz I'm working on the next chapter right now.


	3. Chapter 3

"You are lucky, human." Travis clicked gravely.

"What?" Wikus snapped out of it, not even realizing he had been staring off in the direction Christopher had left.

The yellow Poleepkwa gazed off in the same direction, mandibles twitching in contemplation before he turned back to Wikus, "Any other person would have died for the way you just spoke to him."

"Why? You guys would've killed me, eh?" Wikus grinned weakly.

"No, Christopher would." Travis thrummed matter-of-factly.

Wikus blinked. He knew the green guy was top dog, but he didn't realize it had been THAT big a deal. He looked to the rust red Prawn for confirmation, and Carter merely nodded.

Sighing, Wikus took a step, and promptly stumbled as his legs locked.

"Fook!" He cursed, barely keeping from falling flat on his face.

When a red arm appeared beside him, Wikus swatted it away, "I already told you guys, I don't need your fookin' help!"

"Your pride will get you nowhere." Carter clicked in annoyance.

"Does it look like I fookin' care? Just leave me alone!" Wikus exclaimed, his fear and anger all rolling into one, uncontrollable ball of rage.

Travis and Carter shared a look. This had to be the most stubborn-

Then suddenly a new scent filled the air as the humid wind shifted. Their antennas flicked to attention, apprehension making Travis's slender antennas flatten and Carter's thicker stubs to weave in quick spurts of agitation.

Wikus felt a certain unease fill his gut.

When he looked around with his mismatched eyes, he realized most everyone had scuttled off. Only a handful of them were left, the others having enough sense to take their leave the moment they caught wind of the other Prawn.

Then a scratchy clicking filled the silence, "So for once, the rumors are true..."

Wikus whipped around to see a tall Prawn, his coloring a deep brown with splotches of grey, as though you were looking into a murky pond. His eyes had the same coloration, though the intelligence in them flashed through the dark depths. His limbs were long, lean and muscular. The same as Christopher. Except this Prawn held himself with a menacing air.

Flanking him were two gray Poleepkwas, both similar in every feature. As if they were twins.

"Get out of here, Wikus." Travis hissed, clicks barely audible. He didn't even turn his head to address the hybrid, clearly not wanting the other to see him give the warning.

"What?" Wikus blinked. How could he? He could barely walk.

As if reading his mind, Carter -crouched on the other side- murmured low, "Lead with your claws, as if you were on your human toes. The faster you want, the more to the point you dig in and release. One smooth motion."

"Easy for you to say." Wikus grumbled.

To the brown Prawn, Travis clicked, "What do you want Shaun?"

The brown Poleepkwa narrowed his eyes, "Christopher is not the only dominant in this group. He may have the majority favor, but as you can see, that is mainly comprised of mindless worker drones."

Wikus froze as that sharp gaze flickered to his ebony form, wishing for all the world he could shrivel up and disappear.

"I have rights to meet new members as well... And even from here I can taste this one's scent." Shaun paused, eyes closing briefly as he inhaled deep, opening once more as he growled, "And I must say, it is heavenly."

Wikus's eyes widened, antennas whipping upright in alarm.

The atmosphere shifted. Shaun took a step forward.

Travis turned to shout at the frozen hybrid, "GO!"

Carter simultaneously gave the black Prawn a shove in the other direction. Snapping out of his impression of a shivering statue, Wikus almost fell as he turned tail. He didn't need to be told more than twice.

"Bring him to me!" Shaun growled at his two grey lackeys and they were off like a shot.

Fear laced up Wikus's spine and he concentrated on running, one foot in front of another and on his tip toes as Carter had instructed.

After a few awkward stumbles, the former human caught on quickly. Before he could enjoy any self-praise, he heard the scuffle and loud angry chitters as the two greys had Travis and Carter to deal with.

Wikus risked a glance backwards. The four were fighting something fierce. Carter -covered in his thick, red shell- ferociously tore into his opponent, trading blow for vicious blow. Travis was a yellow blur, spinning and clawing as though he was dancing with his.

Before Wikus could cheer them on, he realized that they were so busy with their brawls, that there was one extra Prawn left.

Shaun.

Wikus's breath caught in his throat, as he saw the brown Prawn slowly smirk. Shaun's thick antennas swiveled in his direction, the large Prawn crouching low.

Oh, fook...

In a cloud of dust, the brown Poleepkwa was suddenly sprinting towards him.

Fook!

Wikus pumped his Prawn arms, putting his all into his own run. The other may have the advantage of simply being in his own, natural form, but Wikus had a few advantages of his own.

For one, he was a quick fookin' learner. It was how he had climbed the ladder so quickly in MNU.

And for another, Wikus Van de Merwe could run like no other fooker in the planet.

Especially when his life was on the line.

-o-o-o-

Christopher nodded as he listened to the problems the orange Poleepkwa was having.

He had recently lost his eggs.

On top of that, the Nigerians were expanding their turf closer to his shack.

Christopher placed his tentacles on the other's hard shoulder, "Do not worry, my friend. It will be taken care of. Should you wish to create another egg with your mate, inform me and I can assign one of my men to guard the unborn Prawnling."

Those orange eyes widened, "T-thank you, Christopher. Thank you."

"I am sorry for your troubles, my friend. But you are most certainly welcome." Christopher grinned, turning to open the door of the shack.

The rays of the sun had barely filtered inside the opening when a black blur sped past, the Prawn running as if all hell was on his heels.

Christopher blinked, tentacles grasping the doorframe as he scented the lingering molecules left behind.

"Wikus?" He trilled aloud to himself, the Prawn having sped too far away to hear.

It would have been impressive if Christopher wasn't worrying about what sort of trouble the hybrid had gotten himself into now-

Then the brown Prawn sped past a couple shacks down. Ripping through the dirt at the same speed. Heading in the same direction.

Christopher barely had to scent this one, his antennas stilling in a deep-veined dislike, the intensity of it embedded into his genetic code. Another dominant.

Shaun.

And he was after Wikus.

The doorframe dented under the sudden pressure of his tentacles, the metalwork giving a strained groan.

Without turning around, Christopher clicked shortly to the orange Poleepkwa behind him, "I must go."

Before the orange one could even say anything, his own feelers pressed to his head at the sudden wave of aggression that had filled the air, Christopher was gone. The Prawn was left to blink owlishly at the rather large dents in the metal of the doorway.

-o-o-o-

Wikus hardened chest heaved for breath, his legs pumping faster than what would have been physically possible, were he still human.

The dust kicked up easily in his wake, though his mind was constantly spinning.

What should he do?

He couldn't outrun the other forever, right?

That's when his feelers twitched, tasting a familiar scent that he must have sprinted past a while ago.

"Christopher?" Wikus clicked hopefully, stumbling in his steps.

Surely the green Prawn could help him!

Wikus pivoted, arm clawing the ground to keep him upright with the sudden shift in direction.

"Christopher!" Wikus called once more, sprinting back in the direction he had been previously running, the dangerous brown Prawn nowhere in sight.

But before he could get very far, the brown Poleepkwa landed in his path, having leaped down from the rooftops.

"Why do you call out for those who are not here? I am. Your focus should be on ME hybrid." Shaun growled, taking step after forceful, measured step.

"I-I have done nothing. Please... Please just leave me be." Wikus said weakly. He could feel the other's pheromones pumping in the air.

Submit. Submit. Submit.

That was the message trying to force itself onto Wikus. It lacked subtlety or finesse, simply demanding him to give up his free will.

Wikus cringed back, antennas wilting against the fierce allure.

Shaun walked slowly, matching each of Wikus's backward shuffle with a step of his own, "No one has told you, have they? Why they tolerate you. Why Christopher has not killed you for what you have done. You are completely oblivious aren't you? Ignorant as your genetic human predecessors."

"W-what?" Confusion stilled Wikus's feet, allowing the brown Prawn to creep maddeningly closer. It was true.

He did wonder these things.

For all the intolerable things he had done, working under the traitorous MNU corporation, why was he allowed to live?

"It's true... we are a rather... forgiving species." Shaun's slow drawl bristled angrily at those last words, before he composed himself once more, "But there is more to it than that."

Wikus stumbled backwards as he realized how close the other Prawn had gotten.

"You are -to put it bluntly- quite beautiful." The brown Poleepkwa said in all seriousness.

This, again, made the smaller Prawn come to a surprised shock.

Wikus stammered, looking down at his new form, "Wh-what?"

His own dark coloration seemed to gleam in the sunlight, a thin layer glimmering in a way not un-similar to the way a polished oyster shell would. A black depth, but an opaque layer gleaming with almost an invisible rainbow-like quality. Add the robin blue splashes to the mix, and the coloration was complete.

"I-I'm sorry. Could you say that again? 'Cause I thought you just said that I was... er... 'quite beautiful' if I heard correctly." Wikus stammered, eyes looking back up in disbelief.

Fook.

Please let him have misheard. Please let him-

"You are correct." Brown eyes raking down, then back up, Wikus's slender form, "A fine specimen, indeed."

Oh bloody hell.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Another chapter. Amazing. Poor poor Wikus.

Thanks again for your rockin' reviews.

-BB-BB-BB-

Wikus eyed the other warily, before glancing back at himself.

But Wikus looked at himself with an overly critical eye. Where there should be flesh, there was hardened shell. He shook his head. That was a human comparison.

Instead he thought quickly of the other Prawn he had seen in the past two decades. And there was one thing he couldn't overlook.

"But I'm... smaller." He trilled meekly, mandibles shifting worriedly, as one tentacled hand wrung around the other, a nervous habit he had apparently kept from when he was human.

It was true, the average Prawn towered over a human at a staggering nine feet. Wikus was tall for a human at six feet and five inches, but in the Prawn world it seemed... lacking.

"Hmm..." Shaun stroked his chin thoughtfully with his tentacles, "I would use the word... compact. Slender. Manageable. It makes you so much more appealing. So much easier to dominate..."

"Excuse me? Fook that! Who said I wanted to be dominated?" Wikus growled, indignant anger cutting through the fear.

Shaun's surprise at his fire quickly dissolved into more primal urges. So this little Prawn wanted to play? Wanted to defy him? That was fine. They all submitted to him in the end. And it was every bit as satisfying as he could have imagined. As Shaun backed the unsuspecting hybrid against the outside wall of a shack, Wikus began to understand just how screwed he was.

Shaun devoured the look of fear and surprise as Wikus realized he was cornered, previous anger forgotten.

"Foolish human..." Shaun caged the slowly panicking Prawn with his arms, leaning closer as he clicked deeply, "Whoever said you had a choice?"

Wikus couldn't help it, he keened lowly, his form trembling slightly in fear.

He didn't ask for this.

He didn't ask to be made into a Prawn. Or a highly desirable one, at that.

He would give anything to have been transformed into an ugly fooker.

Perhaps his obvious discomfort would dissuade the brown Prawn from his heated actions.

But at the alien touch and Shaun's murmur of, "Such intoxicating sounds... perhaps I can make a few more slip past your mandibles..." it was obvious this had the exact opposite of Wikus's desired effect.

Wikus shivered, disliking the feel of Shaun's tentacle running down his outer shell.

A fresh wave of pheromones hit Wikus. His antennas waved wildly as he pushed back against the wall in an attempt to get away, his back ridges scraping against the rusted metal as he shook his head.

"No no no..." He keened lowly, trying to shut out the feeling of those seeking hands, stroking ever lower down his sides.

"Submit to me, hybrid..." Shaun purred, watching the myriad of emotions flitting through the delicate Prawn's face.

He would definitely have fun with this little one.

Wikus panicked as he felt the hand reaching in between his legs.

"No!" Wikus suddenly growled, shoving the brown Prawn off him with enough force to make the other stumble.

He defied the pheromones. The physical attractions.

Shaun's eyes narrowed.

The hybrid defied HIM.

Shaun growled.

Wikus antennas flickered nervously, tasting the aggression in the air. Shaun wanted this. Wanted him. And apparently had no qualms forcing the matter.

"Get away from me, you ugly fooker!" Wikus cursed, scrambling to streak past him. If he could just get a running start, he knew he could keep just ahead of the brown one until he found help.

He could admit it this one time.

Yes, he did need help.

And yes, he did wish a certain green Prawn was there.

As the larger brown Prawn tackled him to the ground, binary arms locking around his slender waist, Wikus struggled for all he was worth.

"Christopher!" He keened loudly, struggling.

He mewled in sudden desperation, Shaun angrily rocking against him. When a tentacled hand brushed against his slit, Wikus felt his whole body pulse.

Fook!

He struggled once more, but that hand rubbed thoroughly along his slit, making the hybrid's body arch upwards as a moan warbled past his mandibles.

"Christopher!" He keened loudly, eyes tightly shut, "Christopher, please!"

He didn't know if the other could hear him, hell, he didn't even know if the green Prawn was anywhere NEAR, he just...

He felt the sudden urge to plea and cry out for his help. He didn't know why.

Apparently it angered Shaun, however, as the brown Poleepkwa backhanded Wikus. The black Prawn could taste blood in his mouth, mandibles twitching in the aftershock.

"Do not say that name, hybrid! Do not call out to him! It is ME! I am here pleasuring you! I am!" Shaun vented, antennas and feelers frenzied wildly. His eyes were wide. Something cold slid down Wikus's spine at the look in them. Something was clearly off.

And Wikus was not strong enough to get the crazy Prawn to stop.

Wikus keened lowly, unable to even form the sound in Christopher's name, fearing the brown one's crazed wrath even if he could.

Shaun descended on him.

Wikus shut his eyes.

Then suddenly a ferocious bellow shook the ground and the tin shacks around them, the very pebbles around Wikus vibrating with its tremendous power. The brown Prawn was torn forcefully from Wikus's unwilling body, flung with enough force to fully dent the wall of an abandoned shack.

Wikus's mismatched eyes snapped open, taking in the emerald Poleepkwa in all his rippling, furious, glory. His green armored chest heaved, that red vest fluttering stiffly in the breeze. His antennas whipped violently, tentacles clenched. He stood erect in front of Wikus, tense form humming of power and resolute anger.

His narrowed gaze was focused on the dazed brown form, temporarily embedded into his steel prison, the wall warped as if it had been made of putty.

But then those hardened ruby eyes flicked slowly to Wikus sprawled near his feet, his gaze softening. As if checking to see if he was okay. Satisfied after a brief moment, Christopher turned fully to Shaun, features hard once more.

The brown Poleepkwa stumbled to his feet, peeling himself from the metal indent. Shaun's dazed gaze focusing on first Wikus, then Christopher, then back again.

He steadied himself and charged, a dark glint to his eye.

Christopher released an angered roar. Shaun should have stayed down. Now there would be no more mercy.

Wikus watched with widened eyes at the grizzly scene before him. Shaun put in some pretty good hits, but Christopher...

Christopher was ruthless.

First a leg, then an arm was broken, Shaun's mandibles a bloody, tangled mess on his face. The fight must've lasted only minutes, if it could be called a fight.

More like a massacre.

It ended with Christopher grabbing a hold of Shaun's head, and ripping it out of his flailing body, spine and all.

At Wikus's unmanly squeak, all that power and fury honed in on him.

Christopher dropped the slackened head, dead foe forgotten as he trudged to the trembling Prawn sitting on the ground. Wikus hadn't moved an inch since Shaun had been thankfully ripped off him.

Wikus was surprised.

Christopher looked untouched, besides the obscene splattering of blood that was not his, coating his exoskeleton. The only show of Christopher being hurt was a pronounced limp, but the green Prawn looked completely fine, otherwise.

With rising apprehension, Wikus found the Prawn finally stopping only when he towered over him. That broad green chest still heaved, but the fury was gone. Mandibles twisted wordlessly, antennas flicking as ruby eyes went over Wikus's form.

Intense eyes found and held Wikus's mismatched ones, and Christopher clicked deeply, "You called to me."

Even now, with the other drawing nearer, Wikus could feel a flutter inside of him. Wanting to cry out. To reach for the more dominant Poleepkwa.

To reach for what he could offer.

Protection. Warmth.

Something more.

Wikus swallowed thickly, shoving those reactions down as he fought them.

Blinking nervously, realizing those intense orbs still held him, Wikus pushed himself more upright on the ground. He had to answer. Felt compelled to, "...yes..."

"This is not the first time you did so. And this time... you called for ME specifically." Christopher held his gaze, the mere intensity of it threatening to snap the last of Wikus's resolve. Make him flee.

But to run away from what?

To cower... from what?

At Wikus's continued silence, Christopher's gaze narrowed, crouching so he wasn't so over imposing. So terrifyingly in control. But it didn't matter that they were closer in eye level now, there was a certain power Christopher had that would always make him seem bigger.

Larger than life.

"Do you understand the implications of this, Wikus?" Christopher trilled, in all seriousness. He was so calm, despite the blood of his enemy that dripped off his sleek form.

His ruby eyes were imploring. Needing Wikus to understand.

But also warning him.

If this wasn't what Wikus wanted, Christopher was giving him a very VERY slim chance to back out.

Christopher crouched, body as still as stone, but Wikus could sense the Prawn's very muscles quivering.

Waiting.

Anticipating.

Wikus shrunk back, one hand held out in defense as he trilled meekly, "I..."

He didn't mean it. He was just afraid. Called out for the only person that had seemed familiar during the recent events of his world turning upside down!

His mind supplied him with numerous reasons. Numerous arguments to backpeddle from whatever Christopher was implying. What he was offering.

His body cried out, keening. Seeking for the comfort of the green Poleepkwa before him.

Seeking Christopher's warmth.

His strength.

His protection.

Wikus was barely able to stifle the sound, using his hand to clamp forcibly against his own mouth.

But he saw the green Prawn's reaction to it all the same.

Christopher's gaze was half-lidded. A shudder wracking through his body. Wikus did this to him. No other affected him so much. His body was tense, unmoving. Even his mandibles froze, his mind seeking the calm to stop himself from doing something he would regret later.

His antennas jerked. He could smell the heat, the moisture, that the brown Poleepkwa had forced on Wikus. It was alluring. Heady.

And intoxicating.

Christopher felt another shudder wrack through his form, trembling from the vicious conflicting urges. The need to take Wikus where he lay, vulnerable. Finish what Shaun started.

But the larger part of him knew.

There had to be trust.

In order to gain it, Wikus had to take the first step.

His strained gaze looked down into those adorable confused, mismatched ones. Wikus was watching him, warily noting his restraint.

Could Wikus trust Christopher?

His blue and gold eyes drifted slowly to the side, taking in the bloody pieces that had made up Shaun. Christopher was dangerous. Terribly powerful.

Wikus knew that now.

He was... what was that word? Dominant?

Wikus shivered, not even wanting to know what that made him.

But... Christopher had stood by him. Helped him when he needed it, even if Wikus hadn't realized at the time-

Suddenly, with a gasp, Wikus snapped his gaze back to ruby red ones.

Christopher had saved him.

Wikus's body trembled from their proximity. Needing, wanting to be held. It was only Wikus's troubled mind keeping it from that.

Unable to resist the pull any longer, Wikus clicked under his breath, "I-I don't fookin' care what it means, Christopher!"

He looked up into those piercing red orbs, praying he didn't hear. Yet wanting him to as well.

Of course he heard.

The trembling stopped, those eyes softening to a content grin.

"I see..." Christopher mused.

Without a second thought, he scooped the hybrid into his arms and stood. He let out a pleased purr as Wikus -instead of struggling or pulling away- leaned into the touch, keening softly.

As they walked away from the carnage, Christopher trilled calmly, "It means, dear Wikus, that you have placed yourself under my protection."

Wikus stilled, eyeing the Prawn, "What... like we're mates now?"

Christopher paused, almost taken aback, as he looked down at the ebony Prawn, "Are you offering yourself to me?"

A heated flush ran through Wikus's form, and he stuttered, "N-no!"

Disappointment coursed through the larger Prawn, though he quickly kept walking to stop it from showing, "Then it means simply that. I am your guardian. Your protector. Your benefactor." Christopher glanced down at Wikus then, red gaze unreadable, before he looked away, clicking softly, "Until the day you find your mate."

They continued the trek, Wikus unconsciously clinging to Chrostopher's larger form.

Did he really want that? A mate?

To integrate so fully into the Poleepkwa society?

Who would he even-?

At the soft rumble in the green chest that held him, Wikus looked up at his new protector.

Could... Christopher ever... desire him that way?

No. Impossible.

Wikus turned his gaze sharply to the ground. He must be fooling himself.

Christopher was so strong. So powerful.

So confident.

What would he see in a weak, little hybrid like himself?

He felt another heated flush run through him, muttering suddenly, "I can walk, you know."

He felt the embarrassed need to suddenly distance himself from the larger Prawn, almost afraid the other could read his thoughts.

"And?" Christopher clicked, brow ridge raised.

Wikus gaped, speechless momentarily. Then his mandibles worked furiously, "And that means I want you to put me down!"

Christopher looked like he was contemplating it, before replying, "...No."

Amidst Wikus's indignant garbled 'what' and 'cheeky bastard' clicks, Christopher mentioned lightly, "You never thanked me, you know..."

That shut the hybrid up.

Wikus seemed to be chewing on the air, looking contrite. He finally brought his attention back to Christopher's expectant gaze.

"Thank... you, Christopher... for everything." Wikus said softly, his clicks sincere.

Christopher's red eyes melted, as he purred, "You're welcome, Wikus."

They continued walking.

A few moments later, a meek voice trilled, "So you gonna put me down now?"

Without missing a single beat, the reply came forcefully, "No."

There was a pause.

Then Wikus growled, "Fookin' bastard!"

To which Christopher chuckled, "Foolish human." 


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Yeah, I figured Christopher's eyes weren't red. Lol, knew someone would catch that. Just decided to make 'em that way. And this wouldn't be the same without the kid. Just easing him into the plot line.

Did you guys know there's Poleepkwa symbols for their lettering? Crazy stuff, I'm tellin' ya.

-BB-BB-BB-

"I... am most definitely NOT eating that." Wikus eyed the bloody piece of meat like it was diseased.

Fook, with all the flies swarming around it, it probably WAS.

Christopher had deposited the slabs of meat then had left, just as suddenly. The two lieutenants were sitting across the fire, looking with raised brows at the stubborn hybrid.

"You need the protein." Carter grunted.

"I've been surviving just fine on cat food. Can I at least cook this?" Wikus frowned.

The two Prawns looked at him in horror, as though he had sprouted a third antenna on his forehead.

"Why would you ever want to do that?" Carter clicked.

"Takes the protein, the flavor, and the blood all away." Travis shook his head.

"Not to mention the taste..." Carter made a face.

"Or the smell." Travis chipped in with a distinct shudder.

Did the hybrid know nothing?

Wikus faintly remembered back in the beginning. When human organizations were attempting to find compatible food to feed the refugees, they had mistakenly wasted hundreds of pounds of donated beef because they had cooked it in the compound. There was a frenzied rush of Prawns heading the opposite direction. What they had feared was a mass riot was actually Prawns attempting to get as far away from the cooking foods as possible.

Wikus eyed the raw, unappetizing meat and cringed.

Did he really have to...?

Blinking at the two, Wikus decided perhaps a diversion was in order, "What the fook is up with Christopher anyway? He's been kind of... moody."

"He is nearing his cycle." Carter clicked freely, at which point the yellow Prawn cuffed him in the back of the head.

"That's only part of the reason." Travis snarled. Trust the red Prawn to think with his slick shaft before his head.

At which the Curtis replied sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head, "Well you didn't let me finish."

Rolling his eyes, Travis chucked a slab of meat at the other, giving in to the hurt look in the red's eyes, before turning back to Wikus, "There is a shifting of power among the people. They sense the death of one of the dominants. The other dominants are defending their territory, making sure Christopher isn't moving in on their turf. But they are confused. Christopher didn't make a grab for Shaun's followers, a sensible path for any dominant interested in usurping power."

"And Christopher didn't...?" Wikus trilled questioningly, head cocked.

"No." Carter clicked around a mouthful of bloody meat, the specks landing near the feet of one, horribly disturbed, Wikus Van de Merwe. He wrenched a large chunk by his mandibles, swallowing deeply as he continued, "Our Christopher isn't like that. He believes in choices. You could say he is our youthful, modernized Poleepkwa leader."

"Youthful? How old is he?" Wikus asked, digesting the new bit of information.

"28 cycles. Or rather, 280 of your earth years." Carter mumbled, before tearing into his meat once more.

Wikus spluttered, clicking, "W-what? How old are you guys?"

"210," Carter raised his arm, then jerked to the yellow one, "209. but Christopher's the youngest dominant to gain so much support. It was his idea to let the humans believe we were mindless. So we can observe them."

"Speaking of Christopher, I would finish that before he gets back, Wikus." Travis suggested, not at all deterred by the hybrid's ploy.

Wikus gaped, surprised his ruse had been so transparent. The yellow Prawn was sharper than the hybrid realized.

"I refuse." Wikus crossed his arms, "What's he gonna do anyways? Force me to eat it?"

The two exchanged glances once more.

"If that's what it takes, then yes." A familiar deep voice clicked behind him.

Wikus started.

He hadn't even heard-

"C-Christopher..." Wikus chuckled nervously, "I -ah- didn't hear you there."

As the green Prawn sat decidedly next to him, the unexpected move sending a sharp shiver down his spine, Wikus prattled, "S-so is it true that you're 280 years old?"

Christopher shot a stern glance at the two across the fire, the Prawns shrugging and giving apologetic grins. They respected their leader and his power, but they were not afraid of him.

Snorting, Christopher just turned his heated gaze back to Wikus.

"Yes. Now eat." Christopher said in a tone that brooked no argument.

Wikus's Prawn body did that telltale twitch, the one that would follow anything that the dominant said. Strangely enough, Wikus was sure his body wouldn't bat an eye even if he was instructed to jump off a bridge. One of his antennas, the one closest to Christopher, started to waver towards him, like a magnet. Wikus almost reached out for one of the slabs of meat.

Almost.

His ghost of his missing finger twinged, reminding him of his previous humanity.

Wikus jerked his head, forcing the antenna back into place. He even went so far as to grab his left arm with his right.

"And if I refuse?" Wikus clicked stubbornly.

The two across the fire stilled, watching the scene playing out before them with morbid curiosity. They knew now, Christopher being his appointed guardian, that he wouldn't kill the hybrid outright. But that didn't mean he wouldn't enforce what he knew was best for the black Prawn.

Christopher himself stilled, surprised almost, as he turned slowly to the foolish Prawn next to him.

"You will eat it, Wikus." The emerald Prawn clicked deeply. Seriously.

Wikus trilled absentmindedly, looking across the fire to their rapt audience, back to the serious looking Poleepkwa beside him.

It's not like Christopher would actually do anything. Right?

Wikus scooted a little farther away down the log as he clicked, "No, I will not. I fookin' refuse. Eat it your fookin' self."

"All right then..." Christopher stood, surprising all three as he went to retrieve a slab of meat. He came back to his seat, though possibly closer than Wikus remembered.

Though the black Prawn was too busy grinning in his small victory, to notice.

Then Christopher turned to him, and he had a sinking feeling in his gut.

Apparently the Prawn wasn't done talking.

"...we do this the hard way." Christopher clicked gravely.

Suddenly a strong arm grabbed Wikus, all but pulling the smaller Prawn into the green one's lap. The hybrid froze in momentary surprise, before he struggled, seeing Christopher's tentacles make short work of shredding a piece from the large slab.

Wikus turned his head, trying to twist away as drops of blood dripped on his face, his tentacles quivering. His body wanted it. It scented the succulent meat. But Wikus's mind couldn't release the social stigmas his human side had learned.

"Take this. Eat." Christopher ordered through the meat hanging in his mandibles, easily overcoming his own body's basic need to feed. He would eat, but not until the stubborn hybrid did.

"No!" Wikus wriggles, almost breaking free.

Sighing, Christoper pulled strongly with his one arm, yanking the hybrid easily back to him. His binary arms then smoothly gripped around Wikus's slim waist, trapping the hybrid's own binary arms, as well as effectively locking him in place in Christopher's lap.

"This is your last warning, human." Christopher warned.

Wikus shrinked as far back as the green Poleepkwa's hold would allow, his face uncomfortably close to the bloody meat hanging in Christopher's maw.

His body reached for it. But Wikus shook his head, "Don't want it. No."

"Foolish child..." Christopher clicked in frustration. He hadn't wanted to take such measures...

Cupping the back of the hybrid's head, Christopher saw those mismatched eyes widen as he closed the small distance between them.

Fook!

Wikus panicked, hand pressing against the large green plating of Christopher's chest.

Fook, was Christopher trying to kiss him?

Christopher growled at Wikus's resistance, then sprung across the remaining distance, mandibles catching the tendrils of the hybrid's mouth. Their hard plating clacked together at the sudden move.

Wikus's inexperienced tendrils and mandibles were no match for Christopher's, as the older Prawn battled for entry. Prying the hybrid's mouth open, Christopher shoved the meat inside then promptly interlocked Wikus's tendrils with his own, creating a barrier should the younger try to get rid of it.

But Wikus was busy flushing heatedly through the intimate contact. His mandibles quivered, his tendrils very sensitive to the stimulus Christopher was providing. The hybrid's fist clenched, trembling at the heated feeling, trapped between their hardened chests. Even the way they were pressed together -Wikus pinned within Christopher's strong arm and twin binaries- clouded his thought processes. Stalling his refusal.

The shredded meat slid warmly down Wikus's throat with no protest.

What was he fighting so adamantly against? Wikus struggled to remember.

Satisfied that Wikus had swallowed the morsel, Christopher released his tendrils, pulling back to observe. He didn't expect to find a flushed Wikus, eyes half-lidded, mouth floundering as though he didn't know how to use it after Christopher's departure.

A distinct heat curled in Christopher's loins.

Wikus himself mourned the loss of contact, surging forward once more before he caught himself. He pulled back, under watchful ruby eyes. Christopher hardly blinked.

"I- Uh..." Wikus spluttered.

"Shall I repeat the process... or can you finish the rest on your own?" Christopher clicked slowly, dragging his mind upwards from the lustful depths it had sunken to. But he couldn't tear his gaze away from the sleek black Prawn, rendered helpless in his hold.

He had the power.

He could force the hybrid. Would Wikus refuse?

Something in Christopher's gaze must have warned the hybrid. Before the green Prawn had the time to reason with himself -about certain thoughts such as why pounding the human down into the ground was a BAD thing- Wikus reacted.

"No no, I got it." Wikus said hastily, pulling himself from Christopher's lap. The green Prawn's hands tightened suddenly -causing nervous mismatched eyes to dart upwards- before Christopher slackened his hold, allowing Wikus to get away.

Wikus's heart pounded rapidly within his shell, hands gripping either side of the log as he sat heavily back down, staring at the dirt in front of him. The log was cold. He instantly missed the hard warmth of the larger Prawn's lap.

Fook. Just calm down. Christopher was just trying to help him eat. That's it.

No need to get overly excited.

Prawns must do that all the time.

It probably didn't mean anything.

Christopher, in the meantime, was filled with his own worries. Had he pushed the hybrid too far? He couldn't help the feeling of emptiness as the warmth that was Wikus Van de Merwe left his lap. He almost wished the human would refuse again, just so he would have the excuse to pull that slender body against his own. And to enjoy it this time.

Wikus looked up in surprise as the green Poleepkwa offered the large slab, trilling to pull Wikus out of his thoughts.

Tentatively taking the bloody piece in his hands, Wikus smiled weakly and brought it up to his mouth.

He paused, uncertain.

He had never really done much besides scoop cat food into his mouth.

Once more calm and under control, Christopher advised patiently, "Place the food before your mouth. Your body will do the rest."

Wikus glanced at him, then back at the meat. He swallowed nervously.

Then the former human had a crazy notion run through his head. And it involved the green Poleepkwa staring intently at him. And his warm mouthparts.

...and the food, of course.

Before he could lose whatever put the crazy thought in his head, he glanced nervously back at the larger Prawn, "C-can you show me how... again?"

He lost his nerve as those red eyes widened.

Wikus quickly looked away, feeling like a complete idiot.

Christopher was silent, something hanging heavily in the air.

Contrite, Wikus hung his head. Had he said something wrong? Was it only okay when Christopher did it?

"Fook man. S-sorry, forget I ask-" Wikus started to say.

But then Christopher was there, leaning down to nuzzle a chunk free from Wikus's frozen grasp. He straightened slowly in his seat, morsel held suspended in his grasp, red eyes locking with Wikus's. They were close, but not close enough.

Christopher was waiting for Wikus to come forward the rest of the distance.

Nervously, the black Prawn edged forward, his tendrils floundering. Christopher merely watched him, ever patient.

When their tendrils finally made contact, Wikus could've sworn a brief smugness flickered through Christopher's eyes. But it was gone before he could confirm it. Besides, his senses were busy overloading from the stimulus of brushing against Christopher's own warm mouth parts.

He just had to get the piece of meat and be done with it. But the process was harder than he had expected.

Christopher's tendrils quivered, as though restraining from making any moves, allowing Wikus the room to explore. But he didn't succeed completely. The hybrid shied away when one of Christopher's mandibles wrapped around his own, easily trapping the appendages for a moment, before releasing them.

Wikus started to pull away, before he stopped. He found those ruby orbs still watching him. Eyebrow ridge arched in challenge.

Was the little human afraid, the look seemed to ask.

Bolstered by slight indignation, Wikus dove back in, tendrils wrapping intimately against Christopher's before he managed to grab the morsel. He shivered as those mandibles made a last, farewell caress before Wikus pulled back, meat already sliding smoothly down his gullet.

Wikus thought maybe he was panting a little hard as he gazed at Christopher, a triumphant smirk on his ebony form.

Christopher thrummed in praise.

The sound warmed Wikus. And he couldn't help the smile that touched his eyes. When he saw something deeper in Christopher's however, Wikus felt a questioning clutch around his heart at its meaning, and the former human coughed.

He searched frantically for a distraction.

"You know, this doesn't taste half bad." Wikus commented, forcing his gaze from the green Prawn, "What is it?"

"Dog." Carter chirped from what he thought was the relative safety on the other side of the fire.

Upon which the red Prawn got slapped on the back of his head by Travis, and an irate Christopher rose half-way up from his seat, trilling angrily at Carter.

All because of the predictable reaction Wikus provided.

The black Prawn gagged, "I... am NOT eating that."

Christopher snarled, taking a step towards Carter.

"I couldn't help it!" Carter laughed as he got up to skirt around the fire, dodging an attempt by Christopher to grab him.

"Tell him the truth, Carter!" Travis trilled at the back of the Prawn-with-a-death-wish's head.

"What? Look at his face!" Carter chirped, narrowly dodging another lunge from a silently growling Christopher.

Wikus was staring with utter horror at the meat dangling from his tentacles, holding it as far away from him as he could. But for some reason he just could not let it go. After the first taste, his body was quivering for more.

"Finish it, human." Christopher ordered, not even looking in Wikus's direction.

Wikus just mutely shook his head. He knew there were countries out there who thought these were a delicacy, but he just kept picturing the face of his old puppy. Of course he couldn't remember the Labrador's name, since it had been run over a week after they got it.

But that was not the point.

Travis, humming, stuck out a foot at the exact moment Carter ran past. The red Prawn's eyes widened as he was tackled from behind by Christopher, his squawked, "Traitor!" directed towards a smug looking Travis.

Blood heated from previous contact with Wikus, the deprived Christopher forced the red Poleepkwa to the ground, "You leave me no choice, Carter. You are to be punished."

The red armored Prawn was bigger. Probably as strong, if not stronger, but he was no match for Christopher.

Carter struggled, "What? Christopher wait I-"

A hardened rod had barely pushed out of Christopher's heated sheath before it plunged into Carter's entrance, the red Prawn crying out loudly in pained pleasure.

Wikus's eyes flew wide, his previous disgusted look dropped entirely. Antennas twitched before freezing, as every other part of him had.

Holy FOOK!

What was Christopher doing?

Out in the bloody open?

With Carter?

And were they ENJOYING it?

Musk filled the air as the green Poleepkwa pistoned in and out of Carter from behind, one green arm shoving the other into the dirt. The other keeping the larger red from touching himself.

Carter threw his head back and gave a pleasured moan, trapped arms clawing the dirt in ecstasy.

THIS was punishment?

How would it feel to be the one under Christopher? Wikus began to heat at the thought.

Fook, what was he thinking?

Wikus made a choked sound, the meat dropping to the ground.

This made those red eyes hone in on him, and Wikus pressed back against the log, as if he had been physically struck by the fire in them.

The last thing he wanted was Christopher focusing on HIM during this heated act.

But Christopher merely growled, grip tightening on the poor red Prawn as he thrusted even harder -faster- than before. The red-shelled Prawn was ground relentlessly into the dirt, his cries becoming more uncontrolled.

Wikus felt an unexplainable constriction in his chest as he watched the unfolding events before him. Heat travelled through his frozen core, his throat suddenly dry. The fact that Christopher's fierce gaze refused to release Wikus's distressed ones, didn't help matters.

Carter came suddenly, howling in agonized pleasure.

Christopher growled lowly, filling the Prawn to the brim with his hard black seed, never once tearing his gaze from the hybrid trembling on the log merely a few feet away.

Wikus was so taken aback, so literally frozen, that he didn't realize Christopher was standing, black seed dripping from his retracting shaft, until the green Prawn was standing before him.

The Poleepkwa's hardened tool was fully enclosed by then, withdrawn into the body, though the slickened evidence still dripped from his gleaming shell. Right between the juncture of his thighs.

Wikus chirped in embarrassment as he realized his gaze had lingered on that wet spot a moment too long, antennas jerking nervously as he looked up at the silent dominant.

With Christopher so close, the pheromones increased by triple, making Wikus's body tremble minutely, his head overwhelmed in the drowning scent.

He nearly fell -gracelessly- backwards off the log, a last minute attempt by his body to get away, when a strong arm caught him easily by the top ridges of his pectoral plating. Wikus's hand grabbed instinctively around Christopher's wrist, the green Poleepkwa the only thing keeping him from falling.

Christopher was leaning close, not helping Wikus at all in his futile attempt to regain his balance. Green antennas jerked wildly -scenting him?- while he continued to stare wordlessly at him. Personal space obviously thrown to the wind.

Wikus started, remembering what Shaun had said. Could Wikus's Prawn form really be... irresistable? And if this was, indeed, true... would Christopher be able to control himself?

Fook, would Wikus?

Wikus was horrified to find his body thrumming warmly in response to the close scrutiny of the other, a dampness between his legs that wasn't there before. Wikus scrambled to shove his own, answering pheromones, down. Even going so far as clamping his quivering legs shut.

But the way Christopher's head canted to the side, mandibles shifting as if physically tasting the heavy aroma in the air, let Wikus know the other was not fooled.

For the longest twenty of seconds in the hybrid's short -holy Fook so short- life, Christopher just let him hang there in his un-relinquish-able grip.

That deep voice finally clicked, "You. WILL. Eat... human."

"Shit, man. Y-yes, absolutely. You got it." Wikus squawked, stumbling over himself to answer. He didn't care if it was dog, cat, or a fookin' carcass that had been rotting for weeks. He would eat it if it would make Christopher stop looking at him as if he meant to devour him right on the spot.

Wikus's hand clenched unconsciously around Christopher's wrist, making those red eyes flick to the point of contact, before traveling slowly back up to Wikus's widened, mismatched eyes.

Christopher seemed to be contemplating something, before he clicked gravelly, "So you WILL eat, then?"

"Fook yes, Christopher! I will. Just... Ah, help me up, eh? And I will get right to it. I promise you." Wikus babbled, his mouth tending to run away with him in times of intense stress or apprehension.

His breath stilled in his gill slits when Christopher suddenly pulled him back up, their faces closer than ever before, except with a lack of meat morsels from before.

No excuse for the proximity this time.

"...Good." The rumbled voice sent a heated shiver down Wikus's back ridges. Then the heat, the touch of the stronger Prawn was gone.

Christopher had stepped back. Slowly, but he was far away enough, for Wikus to still his rapidly beating heart and force his Prawn lungs to breath.

As he picked up the meat quickly under that unflinching gaze, Wikus smiled sheepishly to cover the nervous fluttering of his tendrils.

He would ask Christopher about what Shaun meant. But later.

Much, much later.

With another grin, he took the meat in his mouth and let the mandibles do their work.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: hmmm, maybe I should've put a warning for that last chapter. Then again, this is rated M...

Lol, and I didn't realize I wrote it that way, Cordiss. Nit pick away. I meant hard as in speed-wise rather than volume-wise.

There are so many more reviews than i thought, and more than i can respond to without taking up a whole bunch of room.

So... Thanks for all your reviews, yes i am an evil bastard dealing this story to you innocent readers in small increments like crack, Wikus and Christopher totally rock, and hell yea this makes no sense even to myself! Though I was inspired by previous writers of this genre, like Chaosdreamer and others on both fanfiction . net and adulftfanfiction . net

You guys should check them out.

-BB-BB-BB-

Wikus ducked behind a pile of garbage, praying they wouldn't find him.

He had the absolute worst kind of luck.

He had been minding his own business, working on his shack to make it more livable, when this group of fookin' Prawns had sauntered over out of nowhere. From the moment he laid his eyes on them he knew.

They were trouble.

His feelers scented the air.

They were close. Nearby.

But they obviously hadn't found him yet.

"Fookin' great idea Wikus. Ditch the yellow and red Prawns. Me? Need help? No. What could go fookin' wrong? Apparently everything!" Wikus prattled nervously under his breath, berating himself.

The funny thing was, he had no fookin' idea what they wanted exactly. But his instincts had told him it wasn't good. At least, not for him.

A clatter sounded to his right.

"Fookin' shit!" Wikus cursed, taking off into a dead sprint.

The Prawns, about three with varying shades of brownish gray coloring, chittered loudly and gave chase.

Wikus was never a runner in his former life. But this past week has tested his speed and stamina to its very peak. And then some. Not to mention it had been the longest two weeks of his entire life. Of course, the boost of Prawn genetics had some say in it.

Though the whole, running for his life bit was thrown in there as well.

He ran through a couple campfires, apologizing to the assorted Prawn residents as he weaves through them. He didn't completely avoid bumping into a few Prawns and objects, but from the loud clanging and shouting behind him, his pursuers weren't making the same attempt.

He weaves through a throng and ducks through a couple alleys, finally getting a breather after another half hour. He never really appreciated just how large District 9 was. Or just how many hiding places there were. He couldn't be sure, however, if he was circling back or running in a zig-zagging line. He was aware there was a sort of turf war kind if thing going on with the Prawns. And as much as he didn't want to admit it, Christopher was his best ally, next to Travis and Curtis. He really needed to find his way back.

Chest heaving, he pressed himself against the tin wall of a shack.

Okay. Fook.

He needed a plan.

They were still after him and this running was only buying him short reprieves every time.

He tried to shuffle the previous events through his head. Had he done something wrong when they had first stumbled on him? No, he was just minding his own business, cleaning the outside of his shack.

Fook. But how should he know?

Maybe he had flicked a goddamn antenna the wrong way.

A brush against his leg had him shaking it, pushing what he thought was a cat away without looking at it.

Damn rodents were everywhere.

But then a chirp made him think twice.

He looked down.

Shit.

It was a fookin' Prawn kid. The tiny yellow shirt seemed to swallow his naturally small frame. Making the kid look even more fragile. His red shorts clung to his scrawny legs, not exactly helping the whole 'helpless' visage he had going.

It clutched, vice-like, at his heart to think how he had incinerated that whole shack full of Prawn eggs. Thinking nothing of it then. Holy Fook, Wikus felt like a monster. MNU had lied to them all. It was easy, when Wikus had been focused on his work. For Tania. And not messing up in front of her controlling, ego-driven father, who would chopper over in an instant if the company was in trouble, but would barely budge if his daughter was hospitalized from an accident.

But Wikus had still done it.

And looking into those large, amber eyes, he felt like slime that had dragged itself out of the gutters.

The least he could do was get the kid as far away from him as possible. Especially with the three-manned goon squad after him.

"Go away, kid. I'm busy." Wikus whispered, making a shooing motion.

But the little tyke was persistent. He cocked his little head, looking up at Wikus curiously, but otherwise not budging. The boy's dark green plating, sparked something in the hybrid. A tendril of familiarity nagged at Wikus, but he pushed the thought away. Up until a week ago, he had thought all Prawns looked the same. It was probably just coincidence.

"Fook, kid, I said scram!" Wikus tried again, ducking as he heard the trio getting closer. He tried tossing a pebble at the boy, but the Prawnling simply looked at where it landed beside him, then chirped back up at the hybrid.

Muttering, Wikus turned away to scan the area.

Then he was hit on the head, yelling "Fook!" more out of instinct than out of any sort of pain the object could have caused.

He glared accusingly at the pebble on the ground, then back at the little tyke, "Why you little-"

"A game?" His innocent voice tugged at something in Wikus, draining his slight anger. Was he actually worried about the little guy?

Fook no.

But then those big eyes shimmered at him.

All right. Shit.

Fine. Maybe he did care.

Somewhat.

The hybrid gave an exasperated sigh, looking around as though a solution would appear and slap him across the face. But, as luck would have it, none came.

Good thing he hadn't thrown a good sized rock at the kid, he thought with a frown as he rubbed his head.

Still...

He couldn't let them hurt the kid. If there was one thing he remembered well about the worker Prawns, it was their unpredictability.

They would easily rescue a cat from a tree as they would smash it up and eat it. The same could be said of Prawnlings, whether the kids belonged to them or not. Sadistic. Barbaric. But survival of the fittest flicked through Van de Merwe's mind.

"Yes! Yes, a game." Wikus said quickly, voice still hushed, "Now t-tell me, kid. Where's your favorite hiding place?"

He glanced nervously over his shoulder as he heard the excited trillings of his pursuers. They were getting closer.

Shit!

"Or better yet, show me." Wikus improvised.

"Okay!" The boy hummed happily, scrambling off.

Wikus spared no time following, keeping his form hunched as he followed the speedy rascal.

Fook the kid was fast.

He kept pausing to look back, making sure Wikus was still behind him. It was endearing, in a way, that the little guy warmed up to him so fast. But it didn't say much for the kid's street smarts. He should probably mention it to the kid's parents.

Not that he cared. Or anything.

It was just the right thing to do.

The kid almost lost him through the maze of shacks, but they finally managed to reach a destination. The rundown shack was just like all the others, but Wikus was strongly hit with a sense of familiarity. He shoved it aside in favor of the current situation.

"This it kid?"

At the boy's vigorous nod, Wikus grinned.

Then he became serious once more, "Okay, thanks. Now scram! This could get dangerous, kid."

But the Prawnling merely blinked up at him again, as though not comprehending the urgency in Wikus's tone.

The clattering of three pairs of feet made up the hybrid's mind.

Fook.

"Inside!" Wikus exclaimed, all but carrying the younger kid with him as he quickly slammed the door behind him.

He clamped his hand over the kid's mouth, holding his own breath.

Sounds of the three Prawns paused right outside the door. Wikus's antennae quivered as he could make out muffled curses and questions as to where the hybrid had run off to.

Did they know? Fook. What should he do if they burst in the door? He couldn't just leave the kid. Or should he? But could he trust they'd ignore the little guy?

His fears seemed uncalled for as the trio took off, sounds of their presence fading in the distance. With a shaking sigh of relief, Wikus released the boy, sagging against the inner wall.

That was close.

Too close.

Just as he slumped on the ground, he noticed the kid standing right next to him, not even reaching eye level since he was so tiny.

The boy held out his arm, chirping excitedly, "The same! But you're prettier."

Wikus nearly choked, "The Fook?" before he composed himself enough to adamantly deny, "No, no I am NOT prettier."

"Yes." The kid clicked as though it was the most obvious thing in the world, tracing the cerulean splashes of blue that enveloped Wikus's elbow. It shined brightly against the hybrid's slick ebony shell, as the pattern did throughout his hard form.

"You are definitely confused kid. Me and the word 'pretty' do NOT fookin' go together." Wikus clicked strongly, shaking his head as though the motion would end this confusing and uncomfortable debate.

The boy laughed, a light, repeated chirping sound that reminded Wikus of glass wind chimes tinkling in the breeze. He opened his tendrils to obviously refute the hybrid's statement, when his amber eyes widened. The little green Poleepkwa's antennae stilled, frozen glance glued to the door.

Then Wikus noticed as well.

The three pursuers were back. They must've narrowed down his scent, finding the last place it was strongest at. And that was near this shack.

He could hear them getting closer, hard feet clawing dry dirt and stone under each step.

"Fook. Fook. Fook." Wikus chanted under his breath, terrified eyes glued to the door.

Now what?

In the back of his panicked mind, Wikus heard the small whimper of fear and the tiny scrambling that ended under a desk in the back.

But he could not get his mind to focus on that past the haze of fear.

The three browns burst in, clicking and clacking excitedly.

"What do you want?" Wikus managed to whisper, his throat seized in the same paralysis as the rest of him.

But they were clicking too rapidly. He could only make out a few words.

"Good. Smell good." Was the repeated mantra.

He stood rigid. Two of them came right into his personal space, antennae waving wildly as they clicked nonsensically. Scenting him, hands outspread and trembling, as if desiring to touch him so much they were unable to.

The third one went straight to the desk behind him.

Wikus couldn't think. Couldn't breathe. What did they want with him?

Then there was a terrified squeal behind him.

Fook, the kid!

Wikus jerked, still frozen, but able to turn his head just enough to observe the goings on behind him.

The bigger brown Poleepkwa had the boy by the arm, dangling the kid high in the air as he inspected him. The kid, in the meantime, was kicking and squealing frantically.

"Found little one. Keep?" The big one clicked curiously.

The smaller two paused in their own -invasive- inspection of the frozen hybrid to click at each other.

"Kill?" The bigger one asked then instead.

The two didn't hesitate.

They nodded vehemently in agreement.

Wikus grew rigid. Even more sore than he was before. They would do this? Hurt a little kid? The animal kingdom was tough. Mankind, as Wikus was starting to learn, was worse. But he didn't think the Prawns could have it this bad.

What had the Prawnling done to deserve this?

Something in Wikus's hybrid nerves snapped.

"Don't you fookin' dare touch the kid!" He found himself snarling as he became a whirlwind, turning as he flung himself at the Prawn twice his size. He didn't know if it was the surprise, his new strength, or the adrenaline pumping his veins, but he managed to topple the behemoth, freeing the squealing child in the process.

"Get. Out. Of here. Kid!" Wikis shouted in between punches, dazing the big Prawn he had pinned to the ground.

The kid hesitated, "But-"

"I said SCRAM kid!" Wikus repeated more urgently, shooting a glare at the boy for added emphasis.

The good thing was the kid actually listened, though not before wriggling his tentacles in worry. He barely dodged the two other Poleepkwa before making it out the door.

The hybrid's victory celebration was short lived, however, as the momentary pause in the beating gave the bigger Prawn the opening he needed.

Wikus saw a burst of angry stars before his eyes, hot pain surging through his faceplates. Then he was on his back, on the ground, staring up at three very angry, very menacing Poleepkwa. The boy's safety came at a price. The anger-fueled fight drained out of him, leaving Wikis trembling in post-adrenaline stress, worrying about what would happen to him now.

They descended upon him, and he could not help the way his vocal chords constricted in fear.

-o-o-o-

Christopher stared in abject boredom around him, not realizing the other Poleepkwa was still talking. Berating him, again, about the balances in power among the people. It was important, of this he was fully aware. But he could not rid himself of the tantalizing scent or feel of the hybrid he had in his grasp hours before.

Noting his lack of enthusiasm, the white and crimson speckled Poleepkwa gave a harsh bark, before stepping forward to clip the green dominant on the back of his head.

"Your mind wanders too much for my liking, Christopher Johnson." The elder clicked in a scolding series of clicks.

"What use is it to hear the same lecture once more, V'razzen?" Christopher sighed in exasperation. Like many of the older generations, Tom had taken a human name, but punished those who would use it.

"Christopher, I see so much of your father in you-"

"Not this again." Johnson clicked irritably, sighing as he turned to look away.

But the elder continued, as though the green Poleepkwa hadn't spoken, "-I had watched him grow from a hatchling, just as I had watched you. We would not have made it to crash land safely on this planet had he not-"

"Safe? You call this hostile world safe?" Christopher turned on the other, tone cracked with hurt and rage, "This place is NOT safe! Not for our people! Not with the humans around!"

"Ezra'eed-"

But Christopher snarled instantly, "Do NOT call me by that name, uncle. *Never* call me by that name. I am Christopher Johnson. THAT is who I am."

"But your sire-"

"Do not speak of my father to me, V'razzen."

"You would take the pet name of the humans over your family name?"

"No. They may treat us like dirt but we are the superior. Crippled as we are, we still have our strengths. I take the name proudly, because they have no true power over us, Uncle."

"...Your father would not take too kindly of your disregard in this matter."

"My father is dead. He has little disregard for anything at this point."

The white and crimson Prawn paused, tendrils churning thoughtfully before he spoke once more, "And I suppose this hybrid you have come to adopt, *he* has no place in this matter as well?"

"What has he to do with anything?" Christopher snapped, angry once more.

V'razzen simply looked at him.

Then both turned as a Prawnling came scrambling up to them.

Both pairs of antennae stood ridged at the familiar scent, the yellow shirt whipping around its owner's hasty approach.

"Oliver!" A concerned frown pulled down Christopher's faceplates, as he took four long strides to meet the boy halfway.

"Father! Father! He's being attacked! They do not play well, those three." Oliver jumped up and down at the dominant's feet. He stopped at the last statement, going so far as to cross his arms and shake his head, as he had seen his father do on many occasions when something happened that he did not approve of.

"What?" Christopher demanded, crouching down to better look his frantic son in the eyes, tentacles dwarfing the boy's shoulders as he took a firm, reassuring grip, "Who?"

His nerves danced with his apprehension. The emerald green took the safety of his people seriously. But there was one new addition he worried about above all.

"Wikus!" The little Prawn exclaimed, as if it were obvious. His amber gaze looked at his father as though to ask 'who else?'

Fear and anger lurched in the dominant's gut. How dare they mess with what was his! He towered up to his full height, fists clenched tight. His red glare burned a hole in the horizon, as if he could spot the Prawns in the distance and incinerate them on the spot. Christopher moved, scooping up his son in his tense arms, about to take off.

Catching himself, he paused only to glare at the older Prawn, "This means nothing, Uncle. He is under my protection."

As the younger took off at a dead sprint, his Uncle only stared after him knowingly.

"No, nephew," He murmured to himself, "This means everything..."

-BB-BB-BB-

A/N: My bad for the long update, working on the next chapter now. This one woulda been longer, but I figured I've kept ya waitin long enough. 


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I do not own nor profit from District 9, its story, characters or franchise.

-o-o-o-

Christopher could smell Wikus's distress a mile away, and it instilled him with a cold rage to his core. Oliver had explained the circumstances on the way, and it sent a surge of gratitude and surprise at the other's protective instincts. Especially considering the hybrid's past.

Depositing his son on a neighbor's doorstep, a trustworthy Poleepkwa by the name of George, Christopher ordered in a tone that brooked no argument, "Wait here."

Then he took off.

-o-o-o-

Wikus gasped and writhed under the unwanted attention, trying to curl into a ball to evade the ever-seeking hands of his tormentors. At first it had been harsh and painful, the touches. Bitter and vengeful in the face of the hybrid's previous feat of bravery.

But then it turned into another type of force, the trio crooning as they explored the hybrid's body at their leisure. He jerked at their touches, leaning away. But there was only so far he could go, on the ground as he was. The three had reached an unspoken consensus, the two smaller ones pinning his wrist and ankles with their bodies, hands unhindered, while the third straddled the unlucky hybrid, doing whatever he desired.

Wikus felt his traitorous body quivering under their ministrations, slit growing wet, beckoning the bigger Prawn to it. When the other male's antennae quivered, head jerking to the source of the tantalizing scent, the hybrid knew he was doomed.

Fookin' Prawn bodies and their fookin' sense of smell.

It was a constant source of trouble for Wikus, even as he gagged on the overabundance of pheromones clogging the small room.

As the other Prawn slid between his legs, spreading him, Wikus shut his eyes, knocking his head against the ground in despair.

He wanted to be anywhere but there.

He almost imagined the scent of Christopher in the stifling shack.

"Christopher..." He found himself whimpering, as though the dominant would appear. Though it was too slight a sound for the trio to make out clearly.

The bigger brown paused, tip exposed and ready for penetration, as the smaller Prawns stopped him.

"Who is that?" One of the thinner Poleepkwa crooned gruffly, above the hybrid's head, where he sat pinning Wikus's wrists.

"Your mate?" The second echoed in question from his feet.

Wikus, surprised at their sudden interest, shook his head wordlessly in a negative. His eyes remained glued to the unsheathed rod of the other, larger Prawn, fearful of what was to come.

Noting the hybrid appreciating his size, the bigger Prawn pumped his finger -instead- inside the slick opening, drinking in Wikus's shudder and gasp, ebony pelvis rising of its own accord. The brown plated Poleepkwa demanded in a surly voice, "Then who was that you just called out to?"

"P-please..." Wikus keened, shuddering at each slow twist of the tentacle inside him, grateful at least that it was not the Prawn's massive cock. His eyes were tightly shut as he turned his head, "Stop this..."

He could taste their excitement at his helplessness. And it flipped his stomach inside out.

What was worse was the slow coil of heat in his belly. The urge coming stronger with each beating pulse in his veins, and each stroke of the invasive tentacle. His hips arched off the ground, legs trembling in their restraints. The body between them was too wide. Unwelcome. All three of them were.

He keened in fear and frustration. Why wouldn't they stop?

"Who do you call out for?" One of the smaller Prawn repeated.

Wikus's breath strangled and died in his throat, shaking his head. Wishing his hips would stop moving. The heat was getting unbearable, curling tighter and tighter down towards his loins. The only sounds in the shack were the wet slurping of the bigger Prawn's tentacle fingering his cloaca, and Wikus's ragged breathing.

"Who?" The larger one demanded, shoving his finger harder and faster into the slick opening, driving the hybrid closer and closer to his peak.

"Christopher." Wikus gasped and mewled, not quite aware of what he was saying, as he struggled fervently against his captors. Attempting with all his strength to push himself away from the tormenting heat, the hybrid only managed a foot or two before he was dragged back, to be brutally impaled once more by the waiting tentacle.

The ebony Prawn writhed and cried out, "Christopher!"

He could feel his end nearing. But this was wrong! He could not be sullied by these- these fookin' perverts!

"Who in the cosmos is that?" The larger Prawn snorted incredulously, focused on watching the hybrid about to cum from his forced ministrations.

They all were.

Too focused.

When the door slammed shut -none having even heard it open- they were overwhelmed with the taste of absolute rage within the shack. They all turned as one, Wikus slower than the rest, teetering just on the brink of an orgasm. He blinked hard. Once. Twice. For he could hardly believe his eyes.

It was Christopher. He was never more glad to see that emerald plated Poleepkwa, red vest swinging, as though the dominant had been on the move just moments before. His stance was tense, the very air about him thrumming and vibrating in the broiling anger emanating from his emerald core. His antennae hardly moved, aggressively flattened as they were back against his head. There was a twitch or two, as though the coiled fury couldn't keep completely still as the energy was too much.

But Fook those eyes...

Wikus felt like he would be charred, fookin' burnt to a crisp while his own ashes burst to flame, just from the pure heat in those crimson orbs. And the glare was not even focused on him. They flickered once to the hybrid, the look wavering, before hardening further. Wikus swallowed deeply. Had he done something wrong?

Then Christopher was focused on the three brownish-gray Prawns that were now standing, clearly shaken by the amount of murderous intent pouring from him, but refusing to show their anxiety.

Before anything else could be done or even said, Christopher spoke first.

Who had the hybrid been calling?

He answered their question for Wikus, his tone deadly and dry as the air around them, his click rasping as though having to fight past a throat constricted in rage, "...*ME*"

This was not like the other fight with Shaun. There were no more noises coming from the furious green Poleepkwa after that single uttered syllable, the amount of fury in that single sound was terrifying enough. He was deathly silent. And his movements were sudden, and without a shred of mercy.

The other three, on the other hand...

Right before the green dominant started moving, three pairs of eyes had widened in recognition of the vengeful presence in the room. They paled as if they had seen a ghost, their antennae flattened to the sides in distress, nervous clicks almost intelligible in their rapidity.

"Ezra'eed-" One of them had gasped, about to beg and plead for his life.

But it didn't matter.

Christopher had not an ounce of sympathy at his simmering core. Not for these three. Not for touching what was his.

Pleas and cries of how they didn't know fell on deaf ears, sliding off the stone cold shelling as flattened bugs would after reaching terminal velocity with a speeding semi.

His steps were silent. His hands were swift. And his movements unforgiving.

The only sounds were their pathetic attempts to abate the storm that was Christopher, and the sounds of their hard plates cracking one at a time. They put up a valiant effort to last a few moments longer. But it was pointless.

They were dead before Christopher had even stepped into the room.

Wikus was frozen where he lay, unable to move. Though whether from the previous ministrations, or from fear, he could not say. Fook, maybe both.

Not that it seemed to matter.

Shadows danced in the room.

Christopher, with the rigid grace of a silent executioner, would step easily over and around him. And if the other bumbling Prawn were about to step or trip on the hybrid in any fashion, they were immediately yanked back or hurled forward by the dominant's immeasurable strength.

It was when one of the Prawn was hurled against a fake wall, a crack forming big enough to see the medieval laboratory on the other side, that Wikus finally pieced together the nagging familiarity. This was the shack he had retrieved the black cylinder from!

He remembered that day almost as if it had been yesterday, his mind grateful to be transported away.

-o- FLASHBACK -o-

The electronic whirr of the camera was drowned out by the background noise of pounding Nigerian music in the distance, as well as peppered gunshots and shouting. The usual daily noises of the District. And while it did stir the unease in his gut, it was not affecting him so much as to become an extreme nervous wreck like his predecessor, Fundiswa, shuffling behind him.

Bolstered by the courage dredged from a fear of Tania's father, as well as the fact that soon the whole world would be watching just what MNU was about, Wikus stepped up and pounded on the tin door.

"MNU, open up please!" He declared, turning to smile at the camera.

He knocked once more, hearing movement inside.

When the door finally whipped open, he couldn't help leaning back a little as an electric yellow Prawn answered the door.

"Hi, MNU here," Wikus quickly flashed his badge, sensing the other's irritation. He held up the clipboard next, "I'm gonna need you to sign this eviction notice."

The Prawn seemed to size him up, looking out at the others before promptly shutting the door.

Wikus had learned quickly that if you gave these aliens an inch, they would take a whole fookin' mile. So he hastily pounded on the door, "Hey! Hey that was not very nice! Open up now, please!"

The door cracked open once more, only for the yellow head to peak out, before swinging shut. But Wikus reacted quickly, sticking his foot in the door.

"Now-now sir, that is not very nice! I just want to speak to you and-and get your scrawl here on this paper. See?" Wikus waved the clipboard again, "There may even be some cat food in it for you."

Those antennae perked up at the mention of the canned delicacy, those intelligent eyes brightening. Wikus had yet to figure out what it was about the stuff. He had never taken up any of those habits, such as smoking or drinking, that were notorious for grabbing a hold of so many. So he had nothing to really compare it to. Unless you counted being a workaholic as one of them.

"Yes, yes, definitely some cat food for you! If you would just step outside for a moment with me please, sir." Wikus quickly backed up as the other stepped out, not wishing to get run over by a Prawn almost twice his height and twenty times more strong.

The yellow Prawn's coloring flashed brightly in the daylight, head swiveling left and right as if searching for the promised goods.

Wikus raised the clipboard once more, eager to get out of the harsh afternoon sun and back to the good old air-conditioning of the MNU tower, "Yes, you will get your cat food, I just need your scrawl here sir-"

The yellow advanced quickly, having determined that perhaps the flailing human had the can food on his person. It all happened so fast it was a blur. The gunman next to the camera crew raised his weapon, yelling at the possible danger.

Sensing the tension in the air, the Prawn immediately turned aggressive.

Just as Wikus shouted for them to stop, he found himself flung yards in the air, before colliding sickly with a hard blue structure. The scent of shit overwhelmed him before the pain struck, making him gag and reel from everything hitting him at once. He heard shouting outside of his makeshift landing, the thought of something going wrong urging him faster to his feet than he thought possible. Adrenaline stopped his limp arm from affecting his movements as he clambered quickly back to the hut.

The yellow Prawn was submissive now, on his knees with his hands behind his head. Wikus was quick to smack the radio out of the guard's hands, just as he was about to call in the strike team. But Wikus had a foreboding feeling about Colonel Koopus. The man was not to be trusted with as delicate an assignment as this. Van de Merwe was not quite sure what happened in that man's past, but when he had looked into those eyes earlier, they had chilled his very bones. Koopus was up to no good.

He wanted blood.

And would take any excuse to get it.

"Misunderstanding..." Wikus gasped in explanation to the sour look he received, "I'll take-take fookin' care of this mess..."

"Sir! Your arm!" Fundiswa exclaimed, the black man rushing to his side, but Wikus waved him off.

The other guard holding the gun looked to have an itchy trigger finger, and Wikus quickly stepped between him and the kneeling Prawn to prevent any further incident.

Wikus swayed on his feet as a wave of nausea hit, swearing before focusing on the concerned Prawn before him.

"Fook! Jus-just sign the fookin' paper man, and we'll be on our way." Wikus promised. At the frown he received, Wikus glanced at the guards, then the Prawn. He didn't know where the surge of compassion came from. He was not like his fiance's father. He could not just evict millions of residents and not feel a single ounce of guilt for it. But he had to do this. Had to prove to his future in-laws that he was the right choice for their daughter. So he advised slowly, voice serious yet quiet so as not to be overheard, "Just-just trust me on this, sir. It's not worth it to end up down in the dirt with a bullet in your brain."

Those eyes hardened, the antennae stilling even as those mandibles worked, as though tasting something vile in his mouth. But eventually the Prawn took another look at the guns, then back at Wikus. The antennae drooped slightly, facial plates loosening, as the yellow Prawn slowly nodded.

Relieved, Wikus quickly got the alien to sign before promptly heading over to the side of the shack and passing his breakfast to the uncaring dirt of the African compound. He could've sworn he glimpsed what looked to be a lab inside as the Prawn left him to his business, closing the door quickly behind him. But Wikus waved it off due to the extreme heat and his own questionable mental faculties at that point and time.

However, something else did catch his eye that was most definitely *not* a hallucination.

The gleaming black cylinder winked up at him from the ground. And Wikus frowned, recognizing the alien markings written on the side. It sounded almost as though a bell-like tinkering resonated from the foreign object, not unlike the ticker of a radioactive sensor, except less harsh. Mesmerized, he crouched closer, inspecting it. Drawn in, almost.

He then made the worst mistake of his life as he picked it up.

-o- PRESENT -o-

Wikus came back to silence in the shack. And deep, heaving breaths.

What had become of his attackers?

But he had his own problems.

An intense burning was broiling inside of him. Consuming all thoughts. He could barely move.

He keened lowly.

A footstep to his left.

Wikus was quick to glance up from the ground, apparently having stayed in the same spot from the beginning of the fight to the end. Thankfully it was Christopher. But the other Poleepkwa did not look well. He looked strained. As though fighting with an inner turmoil that Wikus could not see.

Christopher's mandibles flared, as if scenting something.

With a spike of embarrassment, Wikus realized it must be himself.

Though it did not match the deep flush under his faceplates as he found his hand reaching in between his legs, touching his aching core. In front of Christopher!

Considering the circumstances, Wikus was more than horrified at himself. He even noted the slight widening of those watchful ruby eyes, before the gaze became hooded.

"I'm sorry, Christopher-" Wikus apologized profusely, even as he gasped with his own finger inserting itself in his slick opening, "I can't stop my- do you, um- mind waiting outside -Fook!- for a bit? Hmm?"

"No." The dominant rumbled, gaze lowering to watch the hybrid slowly fucking himself.

Wikus's inner human side blazed with heated embarrassment, but his body didn't care. It even seemed to welcome the dominant's presence, as it hadn't with the Poleepkwa before. Not Shaun nor the trio that were currently prone across the shack. That ruby gaze even seemed to intensify the stirrings in his gut.

"F-Fook..." Wikus cursed, in no condition to force the other out. He doubted he could get up and walk if he tried. What the three had started needed to be finished. He didn't know if it was a biological thing, or if the new sensation was just too much, but he needed to reach his peak before he could do anything else, much less argue with the pig-headed Poleepkwa before him.

And unfortunately, Christopher had made it abundantly clear in that single phrase that he was not leaving. Not unless Wikus was coming with him.

And in the paralyzing state he was, Wikus wouldn't be going anywhere. For the time being.

"Please? Just-just a moment, Christopher?" Wikus's breath hitched, hips jerking as he found a particularly sensitive spot.

Those eyes darkened, antennae frozen at a forward slant. The green dominant did not even look to be breathing. His attention was all consuming, and Wikus felt his insides jolt at the intensity of it.

He knew the reply before the dominant's repeated, growled reply clicked shortly, "No."

Grudgingly accepting the one-Prawned audience, Wikus forced his eyes shut, focusing on pleasuring himself.

Better just to get this over with, eh?

The sooner he could reach completion, the sooner he could forget all about this embarrassing little debacle.

Fook, but why did it have to be so hard?

Wikus knew, from diagrams before, that his new Prawn body should be designed with a cock as well as this vaginal opening, but the more familiar of the two refused to show itself. As if he needed the extra difficulty. Especially with mister fookin' strong, deadly, and silent watching over his shoulder. It sent a shiver of lust down his spine.

Fook that's it.

If he was ever able to return to human society, he was destined for the mental ward. Or a psychotherapist at the very least.

Wikus, with much surprise, found his body easily forgetting his embarrassment, hips rocking to the tempo set by his tentacles. He clenched his mandibles, in an attempt to keep his groans to himself. But the mewls and keening sounds kept slipping through.

Christopher, on the other hand, was sure he had been placed in hell. The most desirable Poleepkwa he had ever set his sights on, was currently pleasuring himself.

Right. In front. Of him.

It took every measure of control, and then some, to stop himself from holding the hybrid down, and plowing him senseless. His own rod pulsed hot and heavy within its cramped confines. But he knew better than to abuse Wikus in this. The urges were overwhelming when experienced. Not to mention what the first must bring. And to be brought close without completion was utter torment.

At this point, arguments or not, Wikus would probably agree to anything.

But it was not right.

Christopher was his guardian, he couldn't possibly-

Wikus keened in frustration for the third time in a row, unable to bring himself the necessary satisfaction. Not alone and uneducated as he was.

-to hell with it. Christopher closed in.

Wikus didn't understand it. He just couldn't finish. Try as he might, he would only bring himself to the brink, only to fall, shudderingly, back midway. He had completely forgotten someone else was there, when his own hand was suddenly swatted aside, a deep voice rumbling, "You are in need of assistance, human. I will provide it."

Wikus's mismatched eyes were open in a flash, glaring at the dominant's presumptuousness, "Christopher Johnson, don't you dare- gah! Ngh, Fook!"

But the emerald dominant's mouth was too busy for a suitable reply. He had lunged in between Wikus's spread legs, and took liberties with the offered slit before permission was even sought or given. The sensation of Christopher's mandibles down *there* was just too much.

The ebony Prawn's sleek black form arched, the tendrils tasting his very core even as he tried to clamp his legs shut, to force the dominant out. With a growl, Christopher had Wikus's knees in his grasp, easily pushing the hybrid's legs apart as he pulled back to glower at the younger.

He fought the insatiable need in him to continue without explanation. But he owed Wikus that much, though the hybrid youngling may have made some bad choices that ultimately led up to this. He didn't know better.

"You will go through the rest of the day with this burning need, every other Poleepkwa jumping you and pawing you until their own fill is sated, unless you allow me to give you your completion." The explanation was abrupt. To the point.

And Fook if that heated look on Christopher's faceplates didn't send a surge of pleasure straight to Wikus's core.

Wikus crooned, body trembling. Unused to these intense surges jolting through his body. Christopher's hardened look softened, but his determination was still there. His look seemed to say, 'You will accept my help, whether you want to or not'. Though Wikus could almost swear there was a... hint of, what, lust...? But it had to be the pheromones. Wikus had heard of many stories of the overwhelming scent of pheromones over campfire nights. And of stronger Prawns falling unwittingly for the more alluring of scents. Intrigued, Wikus would always listen in on these conversations, and more often than not the speakers would glance at the ebony and cerulean splashed hybrid. But they had been Christopher's people, and Curtis -that rusty red drone- had always been around to grunt at the more headstrong that moved as though to interact with the clueless hybrid. Though Wikus had thought nothing of it then, because Travis had always managed to distract the hybrid in some way or 'nother.

Shaun's words came back to haunt him. Could Wikus, just an average male by human standards, be truly irresistible by Poleepkwa standards?

And could Christopher -the ever controlled dominant- resist such a heady call?

Despite the violent undercurrent of lust Wikus could finally identify in those piercing orbs, Wikus could clearly see Christopher was still in very much control of himself. What he was offering was simply a way to end Wikus's torment. Whether the hybrid asked for it was apparently not his call.

Feeling the tendril of hope crushed within him, a hope Wikus barely even recognized for what it might be, the ebony Prawn felt his anxiety shift once more to the more familiar anger.

"Fookin' bastard." Wikus relented, the assent coming out in a growl.

Caught off guard by the shift in the hybrid's demeanor, Christopher gathered himself for a moment.

He replied with a smirk, "Foolish human."

Then his head went back down, Wikus's legs quivered and trembled as he arched, and a symphony of curses and thrusts filled the silence of the shack.

Wikus was seeing stars before his shut lids, hands scrabbling for purchase on the ground beneath him. His control, and the paired heat in his loins, was spiraling out of control.

The vision of Tania, his dear, bittersweet love, was fading to the background. She had abandoned him when he needed her most. That phone call, that heart-wrenching, soul-crushing phone call, had driven away the last vestiges of his want -no, his need- to return to human society. His friends and family, all of them, had turned their backs on him. Had believed the lies. The web spun by the manipulative, deceitful sack of crap that was his ex's father, and the MNU that he had devoted his whole life to. Everyone had failed him.

All but Christopher.

And it was his face that appeared in Wikus's vision.

His red eyes that he wanted to see, as the beginning ripples of his climax hit him.

The ebony Prawn snapped open his mismatched gaze, staring up at the ceiling before he pushed himself up on his elbows, to look at the talented dominant working his skills and magic between Wikus's trembling legs.

Blue and amber gaze widened, at the sight of the stronger green between his spread thighs. Those ruby orbs, they were watching him. Drinking in all his reactions. A dark, unreadable gleam in their swirling depths.

A thrill of heat and pleasure shocked the hybrid at that gaze. That unreadable look. And he mewled and keened loudly.

"Christo- wait, I'm gonna- Chris- ah!" Wikus broke the gaze, throwing his head back as the orgasm rocked his world, his warning washed away in its tide. He came, his loud moan strangled in his throat as he cried out, "Chris-Christopher!"

His body grew taut, his elbows no longer holding him up as his back arched strongly, keeping him upright through the body wrenching shakes of the strongest climax he ever had. He saw the stars. And more.

What he did not see was the immensely pleased and wondrous smirk that adorned the emerald dominant's faceplates.

His blood rushed heartily in his eardrums, drowning out every other noise. He waited for the shame to fill his limbs at the favor the dominant did for him. But it never came. It was just a boneless satisfaction that spread throughout his body like a warm blanket. Flat on his back now, he looked groggily up at the emerald Poleepkwa, curious at the large heaving pants coming from the other, as if the emerald Prawn had run a few marathons himself.

Internally, Christopher was struggling with the urge to take the gorgeous ebony hybrid where he lay. But it was not his place. He was solely a guardian to the Prawn. Nothing more, nothing less. So while his own member strained painfully within its confines, he didn't instigate anything further.

Instead, he stated gruffly, "You, Wikus Van de Merwe, are more trouble than I thought. Where are Travis and Curtis?"

"Eh, I ditched 'em." Wikus replied sheepishly, trying to rise shakily to his feet.

"Not a smart move, Wikus." Christopher clicked in a berating tone, offering a hand up as he stood smoothly, "Are you feeling better?"

"Much." Wikus nodded, taking the hand. He was pulled faster than he was prepared for, and ended up stumbling clumsily into the dominant's arms. Christopher easily caught and steadied him. Though strangely enough, the embrace, though accidental, seemed more intimate than what had transpired seconds ago.

That stare was hard. Assessing. Calculating.

Had things changed between them?

Was this a bad thing?

Wikus didn't know.

All he knew was he could not breath until Christopher finally looked away, releasing him a few moments later.


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: I do not own nor profit from District 9, its story, characters or franchise.

A/N: this'll be the last chapter for a while. Don't know if it was better not to post it at all, but figured I'd warn you guys first. Read at your own risk.

-o-o-o-

"Christopher..." Wikus trailed uneasily, eyeing the other, bigger Prawn as though he meant to devour him whole. Those ruby eyes sent a shudder down his spine.

"Enough of this, Wikus." Christopher clicked deeply, stomping further into the room, forcing the hybrid deeper into the confines of his shack, "I tire of this game."

"Game? W-what game, Christopher? I assure you, I am playing no game here." Wikus stumbled nervously, righting himself as he paid no heed to the useless pan that clattered at his feet, resuming his backpedaling. This was bad.

Fookin' bad.

He had never seen the green dominant like this before.

He wasn't sure what he had done wrong.

And it must have showed in his faceplates, because Christopher stopped -mercifully- in his tracks, to click slowly and gratingly, "The gray Poleepkwa."

"Yes, what about him?" Wikus replied, voice on edge.

"You went and shared his meal."

"...I uh... See no problems with that Christopher. What's the prob-" Wikus started to click irritatingly. So much nuisance and trouble, over such a small matter?

But Christopher cut him off, to hiss scathingly, "WITHOUT. *Me*." He took a menacing step forward, "Your *guardian*."

"Oh, Uh..." Wikus gulped, realizing he must've stepped over some major cultural boo boo. He tried to keep distance between him and the advancing Prawn, but the tin wall resounded loudly against his back.

Christopher seemed bigger. Stronger.

He closed the distance swiftly, before Wikus had a chance to dart to safety. Not that he believed he could make it to the door.

He wanted to curl into himself as the green dominant caged him in, arms on either side, tentacles pressing against the wall.

"I'm... sorry?" Wikus squeaked.

Those ruby eyes stared hard down at him, the trembling of barely held control present along the green leader's hardened exterior.

Christopher rumbled three words that sealed Wikus's doom, "Not good enough."

The hybrid's feelers twitched, scenting the sudden overwhelming amount of pheromones in the air. Released by Christopher himself. Wikus gaped.

He tensed, "Wait- Christophe- no don't!"

Then he was keening, mewling from the tentacles that prodded at his slit. Perhaps it may have been slow at one point, but the dominant was angered. And coiled to pound the hybrid to oblivion. He did not heed Wikus's beginning plea to stop. He doubted he could stop now, even if he wanted to.

But he needed this.

Ever since he had met the little hybrid, his dominant blood had been calling out for him. Needing to make the stubborn man submit. Christopher had only received an inkling of his true desire, something his body had known all along, when he had seen Wikus in his true form as a Poleepkwa.

Midnight onyx coloring. Sapphire blue splashes of color highlighting all the right areas of his hardened carapace. Slender build. Mismatched eyes. The fire in his very soul.

Beautiful.

Christopher flashed back to the hybrid trembling on the ground, keening for help. Calling out for anyone. Though he did not know what he asked for.

For protection. The shared warmth of a nest. The hardened rod of his insatiable protector.

It had been a test of Christopher's very mettle -and his very patience- to resist that call.

It was also very lucky it had been Christopher to reach him first.

Lucky for Wikus.

And... apparently for Christopher Johnson himself.

Now he had the hybrid pinned against the tin shack wall, free hand in between those trembling legs, delving into the wondrously wet slit of the Poleepkwa he had been yearning for for weeks. He relished the gasp he wrenched from the hybrid as he teased the moist lips. The quivering of those slackened mandibles, as if the man was fighting for words. He still struggled, pushing against the stronger Prawn, though his movements jerked at each spasm of pleasure Christopher gave with a mere twitch of his tentacles, exploring the depths of Wikus's virgin cloaca. The mere thought of this most intimate of spots, left for him alone to indulge himself, drove the dominant to growl in pleasure.

Scenting the slight nervous tension in the air, Christopher leaned down, brushing his feelers tenderly against Wikus's. The sense of butterfly kisses made the hybrid shiver.

Wikus blinked up at the other, so close his vision was filled with nothing but those ruby orbs. He could almost taste the incredible restraint Christopher was making to slow the pace of what was starting to feel like the inevitable. Thankfully, Christopher had withdrawn his hand, otherwise Wikus may not have room for coherent thoughts right then.

"This will not be like with the others." Christopher crooned, as though to calm him.

Realizing that the dominant did not want to hurt him took away Wikus's trepidation. But with its absence, came another surge of emotion. Anger.

When backed into a corner, Wikus had the knack of raising his hackles and putting up a fight. With Christopher, it was no different.

As much as his body yearned to be under the dominant, he would not yeild so easily.

"Don't take that tone with ME, Christopher Johnson. You may be top dog around here, but I am not some Prawn to be swooned under your fookin' cock." Wikus trilled indignantly, managing to keep his tone steady despite everything.

Christopher blinked, leaning in impossibly closer as he clicked deeply, "That's right, Wikus. You are not just any Prawn. You are *MY* Prawn." He had the resolve of a bulldozer. And Wikus the stubbornness to match.

And that was just how Christopher liked it.

"You will know pleasure greater than any experienced in your human or Poleepkwa form." Christopher's voice clicked sinfully, hand following suit as it trailed down the hybrid's ebony body. Wikus felt his breath hitch, that ruby gaze revealing such promises within their depths, "You will know this, because *I* will show you."

Wikus felt apprehension and adrenaline course through his veins, on top of whatever mystery sensation bubbling underneath it all. He had to act fast.

Gaze darting towards the corner, Wikus gasped, "Oliver?"

Christopher turned-

And the hybrid shoved him, gaining enough of an opening to slip under the dominant's arm. Before Wikus could take two steps, however, a strong green arm hooked around his waist, forcefully manipulating his velocity to the side. While he was knocked easily against a table, his breath lost, the ebony Prawn was surprised to find it did not hurt. He knew the dominant to be more powerful, but he had not realized just how precisely measured the emerald Poleepkwa's control truly was.

Christopher kept the hybrid on the table as he pushed Wikus's torso flat against its surface, his own hips readily pressing against the squirming hybrid's backside.

"Eager to get started with our punishment, Wikus?" That deep voice sent a delicious shiver down the hybrid's spine, the confidence and lust resounding in it affecting Wikus in ways he hadn't believed possible.

Then Christopher did the unthinkable.

He rubbed his unsheathed cock between Wikus's forcibly spread legs, teasing along the perfectly exposed slit from the offered angle. The hybrid cursed the table as his cloaca throbbed deeply with a flood of desire, his own pheromones dancing in the air with the heady scent of Christopher's. Johnson was right. This was not like with the others. With them he had felt an unnamed fear. Intense and uncontrollable as it had wracked his mind and body.

But with Christopher...

The taste of his scent. The feel of his strongly armored body over his own. The dominant's mere presence.

Even as Wikus rebelled against it...

It was as if in the end, Wikus had always wanted this.

Wanted Christopher Johnson.

Fook. Could it be true?

Did he really want Christopher to fook his bloody brains out?

Wikus shivered as the dominant slid his shaft between the hybrid's legs once more, the slit growing wet and Wikus mewling at the electric sensation. Christopher clicked deeply in approval, leaning closer as he purred, "I can taste your need, human. What is it you want?"

"F-Fook, Christopher! You're-you're not gonna make me say it, are you...?" Wikus trailed off, whining as he arched against the table, hips pressing back at another pleasurable grind from behind.

The dominant paused.

Wikus keened.

And Christopher growled lowly, "I have held back from the moment I found you in that shack, Wikus Van de Merwe. I have wanted to ravish-" he ground his shaft against the outside of the hybrid's opening, wrenching a surprised gasp, "-your-" a mewl this time, "-*body*-" and a bone-shuddering groan, "-since that day. You have tested me in ways no other Poleepkwa has, and my blood calls for you to submit under me. Or to mate with you -and not stop- until you do."

Wikus floundered under this newly discovered revelation. Christopher Johnson wanted *him*? The scrawniest and weakest Prawn around. And a hybrid to boot? He had wondered at the strange reactions, the spurts of anger, that he had inspired from the normally in control dominant.

Wikus reassessed his own thoughts. The way he reacted so differently with Christopher. His need to constantly call out for this particular dominant and no one else.

Before he could think, Wikus breathed his next revelation out, "I want you, too?"

The muscled form behind him froze, growing rigid in absolute stillness.

Christopher's voice sounded strangled in its disbelief, demanding, "What did you just say?"

Wikus shivered, wondering if he had just made a huge mistake.

He shook his head in refusal, whimpering.

But Christopher would not accept that, rolling his hips forcefully along the desirable backside of the stubborn hybrid, growling, "You will tell me, human. Or I will use your body until you are drained, and exhausted and cannot walk for days."

"And that's a bad thing?" Wikus joked, clamping his mouth shut with his hand before his voice could run off on him again.

He could almost hear the surprise-turned-smug-smirk on the dominant's faceplates, as he teased Wikus's wet opening with just the tip of his shaft, "Then I will simply bring you to the edge, over and over, and never let you cum... until you *do*..."

Wikus flushed heatedly, letting out his own strangled moan at the thought, and at the insistent prodding between his legs. He wouldn't!

Would he...? 


End file.
